


Sub Plans

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Begging, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Pining, Spanking, Teasing, ambiguous high school setting, kinda teacher/student but not really, more tags when we get there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:03:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6717289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton has to drop out of college and move back to his home town. A visit with his old teacher ends up securing him a temp job subbing for an APGov class. He makes an attempt to shake his childish high school crush, but it's a lot harder when they spend hours alone with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ignoring His Conscience

It was now or never. 

Maybe, months ago, he would've listened to the part of him that protested this. He would've turned around or never even initiated it to begin with. In fact, the voice in his head telling him to turn back wouldn't have even been there- it couldn't have followed him to that point unless he had walked the path himself. 

But he couldn't bring himself to turn back. The confusion, the want, the _fear_ made that voice seem so small. It screamed, desperately _never, never never_ but the vicious pulse of blood behind his ears muffled it. Each beat of his heart squeezed hot through his veins, carrying the contrasting message of _now,_

_Now,_

_Now._

_Alex, turn back._

He bore his eyes into the government-issued door handle affixed to the standard, two inch thick oak door. The small glass window was littered with stickers of football teams, universities, a small American flag, the United States Army logo. 

_Alex, this is stupid._

Inside, he can hear the class clamoring, impatiently awaiting dismissal. He tucked himself close to the wall adjacent to the door, avoiding any curious eyes. The intercom came on, some girl's faux-enthusiastic voice echoing through the barren hallways off of the laminate and steel lockers. 

_Don't forget tonight's volleyball game!_

_Hope you all have umbrellas for this rain!_

_Have a safe and fun weekend!_

The words could have just as easily been spoken in Dutch for all Alex comprehended them with.  The words he could _clearly_ make out were coming from the other side of that door, carried by a voice that was on the friendlier side of authoritative. Alex wondered if any one else thought as much about that voice as he had. 

"Don't forget to register for the exam; if you do it before winter break I'll get rid of your lowest quiz grade," he said. A warbly, feminine voice contested this- raising her hand dutifully, Alex supposed by the lapse between his words and her response.

"All of my quiz grades are perfect scores and I'm already registered, so..." she trailed off, discouraged by a disparaging comment- _bitch, chill out._

"Enough. Margarita, send me an email to remind me. William, stay in your seat until every one else leaves." 

A chorus of " _oooooooo_ "s was cut short by the bell of dismissal.

 _Go now, walk to your car. It's not too late._  

Chairs squeaked and scraped at the floor as students finally stood to take their leave

"Have a good-" the heavy door opens with a click, his voice now ringing clear and bright instead of masked , "-weekend."

One girl, brow furrowed and binder clutched close to her chest darted out, kitten heels rapping against the floor, curly hair fanning behind her in her desperation to leave as soon as possible. Following suit were three more girls outfitted in the school's basketball jackets, polyester pants swishing as they slung their drawstring bags along their shoulders almost in tandem. 

Alex paid little attention to the rest of the students in detail, deciding to count them instead. 

There were thirteen more after the first four left plus the _bitch_ kid who was, by the sound of it, angrily rapping a pencil on his desk. 

The hallway cleared of every one save a few teachers who congregated around one door to gossip and a girl who stood by the entrance of the bathroom about ten yards away, fully absorbed in her phone. 

Alex rolled his neck, nervously trying to maintain his composure without risking looking out of place in the once again empty hallway.

_Leave._

"Look, _sir_ , I'm sorry," the kid said, sneer heavy in his voice. 

The pencil stopped rapping as it was set firmly down on the desk, probably not at the kid's doing. 

"You have _one_ more chance. Get out of my classroom." The voice was little more than a growl, the intimidation it carried made Alex's gut turn uncomfortably. He wasn't usually one to experience guilt secondhand, but the scolding tone of that voice stirred up something that had gone dormant inside him.

A moment of silence hung thickly in the air before a single chair scooted from it's home under the desk. Footsteps approached the door and Alex's heart raced, he fought the urge to slip away from the door to avoid this kid's eyes. 

The teenager emerged from the door, jaw jutting in angry annoyance, headphones wrapped around his neck like an accessory, balled up fists in the pocket of his hoodie, Adidas track pants hanging low on his hips revealing the obnoxious red print of his boxers. Underneath the baggy clothes, the boy looked thin. He got an uninterested glance before the boy rounded the corner silently. 

_Don't go in there._

He heard an office chair creak under the weight of the person the voice came from. He swallowed thickly before taking a measured preparatory breath and stirring from his position. 

He turned and took a single step to stand in the doorway to the classroom, rapping his knuckles once, twice, three times on the open door. 

There he was, tucked into his corner desk wearing a deep blue sweater over a white buttoned shirt. He looked exactly the same as how Alex had left him. 

Washington looked up from the work he hadn't gotten the chance to make headway on to meet Alex's gaze, surprised smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. 

"Alexander!" he beamed, chair creaking again as he rose from it. 

Washington cleared the room in four long steps to perch himself on one of the tables, less than four feet away from Alex. 

The familiarity hit. 

He begrudgingly let the warm nostalgia of the classroom seep into him- it smelled the same, the same posters were still up on the wall, the desks were still meticulously lined, Washington's cursive scrawl on the chalkboard, Washington's same trophies on the hutch above his desk, the same chair, outdated computer, the awful overhead projector that he refused to get rid of, the American and French flags. 

Alex returned the smile, looking directly into Washington's warm black eyes. 

_Mistake._

Heat crawled up his neck. 

"How have you been, sir?" he asked, mouth working on auto pilot as he willed his eyes to not give Washington a once over. 

It earned him an embarrassed chuckle.

"Please, call me anything but sir. Just call me Washington if you have to," Alexander's head swum, hot with his own embarrassment.

"Oh, sure, sir," he said, immediately bringing a hand to his face in a futile attempt to hide it. 

_You're making a fool out of yourself._

"It's quite alright, Alexander," he mumbled soothingly, not wanting to embarrass him. "I'm doing fine myself, but I'm more interested in how you're doing. You're a junior now, right?" 

There was the question. 

"Uh, well, sort of? I'm taking a short break," the hand on his face fell back to his side to fidget.  Washington's face changed, raising a heavy eyebrow.

"And why is that?" he pressed, tone concealing any disappointment or frustration he could possibly have felt. 

 _Why would he be disappointed,_ Alex thought, _he doesn't care about you._

"Finances," he said, words burning hot on his tongue before they escaped his mouth. "I'll be transferring to a different school soon, closer to here."

"Two years at Columbia is still a remarkable feat, Alexander."

Washington's voice was reverent, the compliment measured and meaningful. The old heater kicked on, sending vibrations through the floor of the classroom, Alex bashfully thanked him. 

He brought his hand up to fiddle with the drawstring of his windbreaker, the conversation topics he had thought up on the trip down had all vanished from his present mind. His eyes fell to Washington's hands, placed neatly on his knees.

"Those two years were good, I guess. Columbia's everything you'd imagine," he blurted, sarcasm coloring his words.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," Alex grinned in mock enthusiasm, motioning with his hands, "Picture it: rich white kids following in their fathers' footsteps, none of them know how to do their own laundry at first, unlimited meal plans. No amount of prestige could save some unfortunate freshman from alcohol poisoning. Nobody thought much of me until my first presentation, then I was the cool kid who everyone wanted in their study group. Everyone was  _super_ interested in where I was from, though, after that." His performance scored him a gentle smile, even if Washington's brows were a bit pinned. Self consciousness blanketed over him, his eyes fell to trace along the seams of the linoleum tiles.

_You're wasting his time._

Washington flexed his fingers, thick, _stop Alex_ , and sucked in a lungful of air in preparation to speak. Alex's eyes darted to meet his face- uncertainty played out on his features as he made the decision too late to stay silent. 

"Sir?" 

"Alexander," _stop saying my name_ , "I don't wish to sound presumptuous by any means, but are you currently unemployed?" 

The air seemed to disappear from the room, Alex's heart somehow plummeting out of his chest and through the floor while still beating impossibly fast.

He wet his lips, and shook his head. "I am." A nervous laugh, an attempt to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Currently unemployed." He had never been so aware of the clothing he was wearing, the car he was driving, how little he could actually afford. That shit flew under the guise of college student. It was the staple complaint for college students, all over twitter, the easiest thing to level with your peers with, the most acceptable thing to protest. Not for Alex. He was an underperforming genius. Brains enough to get him almost anywhere, pockets barely deep enough to pay for gas. 

"I ask not just because I care, you know." Alex, fighting his instinct to run, pulled out a chair, turning it around so that he could cross his arms over the back of it. Turning it around so he could hide as much of himself as he could. 

He regretted sitting immediately, having to crane his neck up to see Washington's face. 

He felt _small_. Smaller than orientation at Columbia. Smaller than when he had unpacked his single suitcase in his dorm with his loaded roommate. Smaller than when his roommate's parents asked where his own family was. 

"I ask," Alex shook the thoughts from his head, zeroing in on Washington's words, "because there is a job here that you may be interested in."

_He's pitying you. Get out._

"What is it, sir?" 

"Mr. Greene, sorry, Nathaniel, is going to be traveling to Georgia to handle some family matters. He won't say it to anyone, but he runs a tight ship in his class and the thought of having his materials passed from substitute to substitute is putting a great deal of additional stress on his shoulders." 

"Is everything okay?" Alex asked, concern barely seeping into his gut enough to tint his uncomfortable embarrassment. He'd never actually had Greene as a teacher, but he taught in the neighboring classroom and covered on the rare occasions Washington missed a day. 

"His sister is, um, not well. She's not expected to recover." Alex shifted in his seat. Washington sighed and crossed his ankles. "They were very close," sympathy softened his voice, hardly above a whisper. 

"He left last week, he entrusted me with preparing the substitutes. He teaches two AP Government classes, three regular government classes and one study hall period. I know you have more than enough expertise on the topic, it would only be a matter of paperwork. We've had this one substitute, _Gates_ , for a few classes. He's..." Washington paused, eyes roaming the walls of his classroom as though they would reveal the word he was looking for to him. 

"A disaster?" Alex said through a smile. He doesn't know if he actually wanted to meet this Gates character or not. A matching grin spread across Washington's face. His eyes settled on Alex's lips.

_You're imagining it._

"That's certainly one way to put it. But, Alexander, would you be willing to consider working here temporarily? The pay isn't great but it's a job where you can employ your talents. I'd hate to hear of you wasting away in an administrative job if I knew there was an opportunity like this here." 

Alex couldn't afford to say yes to this offer. Teacher salaries were a joke, let alone substituting. He made a mental list of all of the bills he had due at the end of the month, wondered if he could cut out sleep, take the bus, find a way to do laundry for free. But if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't afford to say no. He was unfamiliar with the job scene, he would probably get desperate after a week of searching, each day he spent unemployed added more to his monumental debt.

All of the benefits this job offered doubled as drawbacks, but it was hard to compare your options when you really only have one.

_"Alex."_

Alex gulped, tightening the grip on his elbows and raising his face to meet Washington's gaze, unsure of the implications of his name being spoken that way. He said his name quietly, pleadingly, in that throaty voice that reverberated through each bone in Alex's body. The voice Alex couldn't shake from his mind, even two years later. The utterance of his name, his _short name_ , in that bass pitch, spoken as though Alex was something he could devour easily and he had the decency to warn him. The heat drained from his face and pooled in his lap; his mouth went dry.

"I could really use a hand here."

He expected a moment of internal conflict, a moment of doubt, but he was met with nothing. The word came out of his mouth as quickly as it had formed in his head.

_Say no._

"Yes."


	2. Sealing the Deal

"Great!" Washington beamed, sliding off the desk to stand, somehow becoming even taller. "Now it's just a matter of paperwork." 

Alex tried to get out of the chair as smoothly as possible, his shaking legs making the ordeal more difficult than if he were to just remain standing in the first place. Washington smoothed his pants as he made his way to his computer, large hands running over his powerful thighs. _Chill out, Alex_. The sky outside was starting to darken, the overcast day calling for an early sunset.

"I'll just be a second," Washington called, back turned to Alex and packing his bag. 

This was how Alex remembered him. Projective- his voice carried through the entire classroom. He said the words casually, as if to a friend, but they commanded the same attention as if he were lecturing on the art of war, warning the class about an assignment, wishing  them a good weekend, scolding them for misconduct. Alex glanced at the exact seat he used to sit in, trepidation sinking into him. He didn't dare make his way over there- he had a hard enough time keeping certain thoughts at bay. 

_You're not in his class,_ Alex thought, averting his gaze. _It's time to grow up, you're here to work._

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder and he flinched.

"You ready?" Washington asked as Alex spun his head around to face him. In reality, there had probably been a few feet between them. But with Alex's head tilted so far back just to see his face, Alex could have sworn that they'd been mere inches away. 

"Yeah," he said, voice trailing off in distraction. 

Up close, Washington was exactly the same. Clear, dark skin masking any hints of aging save for the hint of wrinkles forming at his deep set, lash lined eyes. His cheeks were high and his clean shaven jaw protruded just enough to be a silent threat. 

He was a sheathed sword, a holstered gun, his clean cut handsomeness thinly veiling his strength. Not something that shredded carnally- something that was brought out with pomp and circumstance, ceremonial. Effective, undoubtedly, but reserved for sanctimonious occasion. An heirloom, a deadly work of art. And Alex was a swiss army knife. Capable, practical, smart. _Ordinary._

The hand on his shoulder gave a quick squeeze before falling to the strap of Washington's messenger bag. He gestured to the door with his other arm and Alex struggled not to wobble as he made his exit. The fluorescent lights shut off with a click and Washington pulled the door closed, latch sliding home into its metal counterpart in the door jamb. Alex sauntered a few feet back as Washington fumbled with his key ring to get the right one. 

On it was an amber colored leather keychain, two car keys, one car fob, a dog tag, a small metal charm in the shape of the state of Virginia, another American flag, an assortment of keys both brass and silver amongst which were probably the keys to his classroom, the school, his house, his safe. A plain silver key grated its way into the lock, Washington turned it between the pad of his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger. He chuffed a hum of approval and dropped the keys into his messenger bag.

"You know the way- main office."

"What are you trying to say?" Alex joked, adjusting his pace to match the gait that Washington's long legs gave him.

"Oh please, Alexander." The two walked unobstructed through the hallway and down the stairs. Alex had to file behind Washington at one point to make room for the basketball team, running laps around the school due to the rain. He willed away the guilt that prickled at him. _You're supposed to be here. You're allowed to be here- you're not doing anything wrong._

He hardly noticed when they had made it to the office door- identical to all of the other doors in the school but flanked on both sides by windows cluttered with pastel printer-paper. Scholarship information, swim team tryout dates, tutoring resources, announcements that hadn't made it onto the intercom. 

The two shuffled into the carpeted office. 

" _George!_ To what do I owe you the pleasure?" She looked familiar. Sandy blond hair stopped just at her shoulders, right on the verge of going gray but not if she could help it. Her stance straightened, hand still planted on the number pad of the office phone. 

"Hello, Abigail. Is Mr. Adams in his office?"

"Oh, please, you know you can call him John. He is, I'll buzz him to let him know you're coming back with-" she looked expectantly at Alex who all but squirmed, unsure of what to say. His name? Columbia dropout? 

"Alexander Hamilton. A former student of mine, brilliant; I'm hoping to have him cover for Greene."  

She nodded, paying more attention to signaling Washington's arrival to Adams.

Alex kicked himself for how little he was paying attention to the whole ordeal. They filed into the office, elbows brushing and sending sparks to Alex's brain from the contact. Adams was remarkably unremarkable- a man seemingly in his fifties, brown hair sparse and receding from his brow. He nodded along, smiled where it was appropriate, and signed the forms he was handed. He shook the hand that was extended to him, said his pleasantries and left, trailing behind Washington.

Washington offered a warm thanks to Abigail and held the door open for Alex, wide hand making brief contact with the small of his back. His heart skipped.

"Where did you park, Alexander?" his voice sounded as though it was coming from an inch away. Alex shifted nervously, a bead of sweat breaking at his temple. 

"Visitor parking. I know the way, sir, it's fine,"

"Nonsense. I hope you have room in your trunk, I need to pass along your teaching materials for you to review over the weekend." It came across as though he was repeating a well known fact. He may have well been, for all Alex could pay attention to Adams. The pair made the short walk back to the history hallway, turning into what Alex knew was the history office. 

Under his voice, unnecessarily so, Alex asked "Is Adams a good principal? I forgot that Franklin left."

"Mr. Adams is a fine principal. He gets the job done. He leaves much to be desired, however."

"And what do you _desire_ sir?"

Alex's brain screamed at him for the irresponsible innuendo. Before he could overcorrect and make an even bigger fool out of himself Washington punched his code into the number-lock on the history office door. A sign above it said _No Students Allowed_. If he wasn't so busy floundering, Alex might've made a joke about it.

"He's not a very spirited man. He's not great with kids. But I'm sure he'll adjust." He made his way to an intimidatingly tall stack of binders, each spine had a label indicating what unit's materials it contained. 

"Sir, please, let me take a few," he blanched, eyes hungrily tracing over the muscles he could just barely make out through his sweater. He tried to  peel his eyes away to no avail.

"Nope-" Washington said back still facing Hamilton, voice straining dramatically, "-you're getting the doors. Could you get the lights on your way out? I think we're the last ones here."

The stack rested on his chest, stopping just below the collar of his shirt. Alex flipped both switches and pulled the door closed behind him hearing a mechanism lock the door, tiny green light turning red.

Washington was looking at him when he turned back around, face unreadable. Alex flashed a nervous smile, not showing his teeth, to signify that he was ready. 

They walked in relative silence out to Alex's car-borrowed from Mulligan while he was away at school. Each step made Washington's messenger bag hit the side of his right thigh, its weight thudding a steady rhythm against his slacks. His arms flexed under the weight of the binders but did not strain. He shook his head in a feeble attempt to shake away the thought of those same arms, bare, holding him, pinning him, _stop_.

"This one's mine, sir," Alex said, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his khakis. He popped the trunk and trotted to the back to pull the trunk open fully.

"Sir, please let me-"

" _Alexander_ , it's my pleasure," he said, voice steady as he gently set the burden into his trunk. The car sunk under the weight a bit. Alex gulped as he watched the knuckles shift under a thick vein in his hand. Washington's nails were filed short, manicured neatly. Light mist clung to the fibers of his sweater, but he took no notice.

"Sir, it's about to rain, you should go."

He adjusted his sweater, fabric pulling over his broad chest. Alex bit the inside of his cheek to choke off a groan. 

_Please, please please leave before I say something stupid._

Alex felt the weight of his hair at the base of his skull, his bun had fallen a little loose from his head shaking earlier. 

He couldn't stifle the gasp when Washington brought a heavy hand to rest on his shoulder- too close to his neck to be an accident. His heart picked up pace again after the short break of calm he had during their conversation with Adams. 

"It's good to have you back, Alexander." He removed the hand from his shoulder to brush Alex's cheek with the knuckles of three fingers. 

_What the fuck is happening, oh god, oh god oh god._

He couldn't back away. The touch, though alarming, felt as natural as closing his eyes to sleep after hours of studying or taking his first breath of air in the morning. If Washington's hand had stayed a moment longer, he would've swayed into the touch. 

"Have a good weekend," he sighed, pulling his hand away gingerly. "My email and phone number is written down inside the top binder."

"Uh, sure, yeah," Alex croaked. "See you Monday."

Washington parted, digging his keys out of his messenger bag and making his own way to the faculty parking lot, ducking his head in a futile attempt to keep the rain off of his face. 

Alex hurried to close the trunk and clamber into the drivers' side of his vehicle, jamming his key into the ignition. He took no time to check before backing up, rolling out of the parking lot as quickly as he could. He fastened his seatbelt as he pulled out onto the main road.

His face burned where Washington's fingers were. He made a point to look at every license plate he drove by, anything to keep his attention on the road. The cold bit at him through his car, through his windbreaker, settling into his fingertips and toes but not permeating the fierce burn in his chest or the warm flush on his face. 

There were six stoplights between the school and Alex's apartment. He was stopped at every single one.

When he pulled into his numbered spot, he sat in the cold for a moment- the cold plastic of the steering wheel pressed into his forehead providing little relief. 

_Stop thinking about it. Cool off._

He pulled his key out of the ignition and released his seatbelt buckle with a metallic snap. The wind had picked up, bringing in a steady fall of light rain that stuck in his eyelashes making him squint.

He only grabbed the top three binders out of his trunk, marveling at their weight as he precariously shelved them on one arm. The trunk slammed shut, the doors locked in unison and Alex's feet treaded wetly to the door of his apartment building. The indoor stairwell was frigid, lit by whomever was decent enough to leave their lights on. 

All things considered, Alex had lucked out with his apartment. The rent was priced unreasonably low for the privacy it granted him, he thought. He'd lived in worse. 

He dropped the binders on the barstool knocked askew under the breakfast nook in the pocket kitchen. 

He retreated back to close the door of his apartment and switched on the light in the kitchen. The stack of binders slid, Alex groaning as they hit the floor- well, pile of laundry. Their contents stayed firmly put save for a clipped stack of quizzes and a green post-it note. 

He squatted to grab the notebooks and secure them on a flat surface. 

He paused a moment before looking down at the note, heavy premonition of what it may be. 

A gust of air that he wasn't aware he was holding rushed out in a sigh; he lowered his eyes.

_(540) 300-.0031_

_Don't hesitate to come to me with anything you need, Alexander._

_-G. Washington_

 

He must have scrawled it before they left the history office.

His fingers went numb as the warmth of the apartment brought them back to their regular temperature. Exhaustion seeped in, the rush from earlier not letting his heart race again at the note. 

_He's just being friendly,_ Alex thought, neatly closing the binder and tucking it with the other two underneath his bedside table. 

He pushed himself off of the ground and shouldered off his windbreaker and his green corduroy button up. He fished the hoodie he'd been wearing from under the comforter of his bed- oversized red, white and blue tie-dye with _South Carolina_ printed in capital black letters. 

John had bought it when they went to South Carolina last winter break, intentionally as a gift for Alex but stealing it back for himself. After a great deal of theatrical pleading, John agreed to part ways with it when Alex had to leave Columbia. 

He's fairly sure John was teasing when he clung to the garment, he was using it to dance around his dismay at Alex's parting. The hoodie dwarfed his small frame, sleeves going just past his knuckles, threadbare at the part of the sleeve that Alex so often worried between his fingers absentmindedly. He tied the drawstring, _just like John does_ , and settled into the mound of pillows he had set up against the wall to function as a couch. He flipped on the TV and pulled out his laptop. 

The thought of visiting the local university's website stirred up something in his chest- disappointment, frustration, self pity. 

He eventually decided to give the materials a once-over. Rain pounded steadily on the window as Alex leaned to retrieve the top binder: _II BELIEFS & BEHAVIORS units 1-4_

There was a brief section of vocabulary for the overarching topic that the students would have to do, presumably homework. There were outline questions all referring to the textbook, _which he didn't have,_ handwritten notes pertaining to Greene's power point presentations which, again, _he didn't have._

Alex's frustration was short lived; he found a key for the teacher's edition of the online textbook and decided that he'd be teaching the class in his own way. How he did things best. 

He slapped together a presentation with the bare-bones material for the kids to copy down, _entitled shits_ , and got to work writing an outline of the lecture he'd be giving. 

The task had absorbed his attention until 11pm when his eyes got bleary, illuminated laptop screen boring into the back of his skull. 

He shut his laptop and thumbed through the pages of the notes he added into the notebook, secured in their prongs, until he was faced with the green note again. 

_Don't._

He didn't. He tucked the binder and his laptop under the side of his bed and twisted the knob switch of his bedside lamp, room going dark save for the blue glow of the television. The local news played quietly, nearly drowned out by the now heavy rain. 

Alexander played the memory of Washington's fingers on his cheek over and over and slipped into a fitful sleep, ignoring the heat that coursed through his veins and arteries and straight to his dick out of shame and _fear_. 

He couldn't afford to let his crush get in the way of his job.

He couldn't afford to let his crush get in the way of the friendship that Washington seemed to want to initiate. 

So tonight he ignored it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated rating!!  
> are you screaming at alex yet??? sorry for the fairly uneventful chapter, i promise chapter three will be a treat ;) unless it isn't in which case i promise chapter FOUR will be a treat ;)  
> we're through the thick of the exposition though! plot to come  
> (scream at me on @haalpine, if you're interested in beta-reading shoot me an email at haalpinecommissions@gmail.com!)  
> ALSO PEEP that northern virginia area code on that phone number


	3. Day One

The glowing red numbers blinked with the blaring sound of his alarm clock. 

Alex slung one arm over his face, nose settling into the crook of his elbow, soft skin providing a dull pressure over his eyes. His other arm blindly pawed at the side table to shut off the alarm. A click, then silence. 

He rolled onto his side, letting the arm slide off of his face and opening his eyes with a squint.

_5:40_

His brain carded through the old list of facts he had stowed away of the negative impact of having teenagers wake up so early. Already he was shifted into debate gear. Not a good thing for his students.

He stretched his legs over the side of the bed and rose, drawing the curtain aside a bit to look at the weather. It was pitch black. He made a mental note to check the weather app on his phone as he slid out of his sweatpants and into the hot spray of his shower. The city treated their water with fluoride and chlorine, not enough for someone to notice if they'd been used to it but enough to throw Alex off. Two years at Columbia got him used to different water, different air pressure-things too subtle to note upon moving in but just enough to notice when you move away. 

The smell was drowned out when he scrubbed shampoo into his hair, coconut scent almost cloying. He rinsed and used the conditioner he had stolen from John and promised himself he'd only use on special occasions. 

He laughed as he remembered the picture John had sent him shortly after he left of his shower caddy, conditioner-bottle sized hole in it. 

_"Can you tell me what's missing, here, Alexander Hamilton?"_

He rinsed most of it out, leaving enough in that the smell would linger and, _god, Alex, he's not gonna smell your hair_.

Out of the shower. Into a pair of black slacks, honey-colored sweater over a white button up, gray tartan scarf, black peacoat (missing the uppermost button). 

He threw his laptop, charger, two Nature Valley granola bars and a gatorade bottle he'd been reusing for a week into a Columbia collegiate tote bag. He poured the rest of his coffee from yesterday into his stainless-steel coffee mug and popped it into the microwave. 

"Wait."

Embarrassment held a lit match to the gas leak of his anxiety. He jammed his fingers into the release button on the microwave less than a second after he had turned it on, already cold fingertips turning purple with the unnecessary force against the black plastic. 

Pour coffee into a mug, microwave for forty-five seconds, pour an ungodly amount of coffee creamer to try and mask how stale the coffee was. Pour coffee back into travel mug, screw on lid, grab phone, grab bag, grab notebook, lock the door on your way out. 

The sky turned purple, sun not due to rise for at least twenty more minutes. The drive to school was uneventful, roads clear. If he remembered correctly, the buses usually didn't start to run until about 6:45- he had about ten minutes until traffic would be a problem. 

He pulled up to the school, faculty lot empty save a few cars. He was early. He parked at the far back corner of the lot, not wanting to steal a teacher's spot and cut the ignition. He fished the sheet of paper that would serve as his parking pass out of the notebook, slid it to the front of his dashboard and pulled out his phone. 

_6:41_

He didn't actually have a plan to get in the building, but he knew that he'd need to be there before the students.

_Just stand by the door and let a teacher let you in._

He jammed his phone back into his pocket, grabbed his belongings and began to make his way to the building. Glowing orange light filtered through the chain link fence of the bleachers onto the asphalt, facade of the building still in relative shadow. His breath fogged up in tiny white puffs, humidity lingering from the rain that finished the day before. He cursed at himself, dreading the inevitable embarrassment of explaining himself to a teacher that he may or may not know. 

But as he neared the heavy doors, one opened. 

"Good morning, _Mr. Hamilton._ "

Washington held the door open, a Starbucks cup in each hand. Alex jogged to the open door, not wanting to keep him waiting for too long in the cold.

"Is that coffee for me?" Alex joked, trying to mask his nerves with some lighthearted humor. 

"Nope," Alex's stomach flipped. The rush of static shame chanting _abort, abort, abort_ almost drowned out the rest of Washington's sentence. "I'm just _really_ thirsty this morning." He spoke in jest, holding the cup out to Alex. He thought of the travel mug of day-old coffee in his bag, sloshing a little heavier with the guilt.

"Sir, you didn't have to, really."

"Alexander," he said, pace slowing so that the two were standing still, Washington looking down at Alex who was timidly turning to face him. "It's the least I could do. Your value to-" a short pause, "this school, these _students_ , is worth far more than a lousy cup of coffee."

Alex raised the cup to his mouth, saying his thanks into the hot steam of the drink and resuming their stroll to the classroom. 

Once he had regained his composure, he decided it would be appropriate to report his progress over the weekend to Washington.

"So," Alex started. Washington affirmed his attention with an inquisitive hum. "I looked through all of the notes and no _wonder_ the subs were having a hard time. It took me almost an hour to figure out the online textbook and all of Greene's notes correspond to presentations that only _he_ has. So I took the liberty of making my own slideshows and outlining my own notes that correspond neatly into both the curriculum _and_ the worksheets he left for the kids. Today we're starting chapter eight, I'm gonna project the vocabulary since I didn't get a chance to make copies of the worksheets and spend half the class lecturing and the other half having them outline." He looked up at Washington, who had stopped to unlock his classroom. 

"That," click, jingle, "is a great plan. What about the core level government students?" he asked, making his way to the door to Greene's room. Panic bubbled up in Alex's chest. He'd completely forgotten. 

"If you need, Tallmadge should have the worksheets for his class. It's busywork, but it'll buy you enough time to get your bearings."

Washington's attempt at comforting his was embarrassingly effective, the tight anxiety unraveling a bit. Not gone, but definitely eased. 

Washington retreated back into his own classroom, booting up his computer, straightening the desks, preparing his room for the day. Alex tucked his tote bag neatly in the corner of the hutch behind his desk, purposely facing the design outward in a subtle attempt to maybe make a good impression on the students. He sifted his fingers through the notes he had prepared- the first class was an AP one. The tension from his earlier mistake was replaced with excitement. He was being paid, essentially, to talk all day. On top of that, he was getting paid to talk about the United States government and peoples' voting habits and he'd be, probably, uncontested which meant he got to go and go and _go._

He heard the sound of students faintly down the hall and saw Washington's elbow through his doorway. He'd always made a point of standing by the door between classes unless he was spectacularly burdened or assisting a student. Alex fought back a flush at the memory of how he'd reconfigured his route to class just so he could walk past Washington as much as possible. The bell rang and Hamilton braced himself. He knew he had five minutes until kids actually showed up, so he grabbed his laptop and quadruple checked his power point. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Washington flagging his arm, beckoning Alex to join him at the doorway. 

"I'm gonna introduce you to your class if that's alright. I don't mean to alarm you, but Greene's absence has made this class a bit wild."

"Are you gonna intimidate my kids?" Alex grinned. _My kids._ He was already a corny substitute and his students hadn't even arrived. Washington nudged him playfully on the arm. 

"By the looks of it, I'm gonna have to intimidate you into drinking that coffee, too."

"Intimidate away, sir," Alex said too quick. _God, think before you speak you fucking moron it's your first day._

Washington looked content with the exchange, Alex returned to his corner of the classroom, perching himself on the spare table and checking his phone. 

_Don't check Twitter at work._

He checked twitter at work. Lafayette had gone on a spree of sharing aesthetic picture sets, the chances of there being an artistic nude was more than enough incentive for him to exit Twitter and open the CNN app. Students filtered in slowly, then all at once-all talking, but none to him. He overheard some giggles, some profanity, general confusion, conversations continued from the hallways. The bell rang, a final student slipped in as Washington retreated momentarily to inform his own class of his moment away. He turned back into Alex's class and cleared his throat. 

"Good morning, Mr. Washington!" a girl peeped enthusiastically, wide smile revealing pink gums. _Kiss-ass._  

"Good morning class. Greene is still absent and we've gotten word that it may be a few months until he gets back. He's fine, don't worry. In the meantime, your permanent sub will be Mr. Hamilton. He's not too much older than you, you may recognize him- he graduated three years ago. Regardless, treat him with the same respect that you would treat Mr. Greene." The class was silent. Disinterest. 

"Got it? Okay," Washington turned to face Hamilton, face painted a clear picture of concern and care. His chest tightened, admiration pressing up against his ribs.

" _Alexander_ , please come grab me if they're giving you trouble," he said, hushed voice reserved for his ears alone. 

"Yes sir." O _h please, way to look like a respectable adult in front of a class of seventeen year olds._ Washington rapped a knuckle on the corner of his desk before wheeling out of the classroom and into his own. 

"So uh," he started, noise level picking up immediately after Washington's exit. 

"-Hi Alex!" a girls' voice chimed. She looked familiar, long black hair framing a square jaw and high cheeks. She knew his name. He'd have to ask later.

"Hi. Anyways, as Washington said, I'm Mr. Hamilton and I'm your substitute for...a while I guess. I apologize in advance for butchering any names on the roll-correct me if I mess up." 

He went down the roster, pausing momentarily at the S section. 

"Eliza Schuyler?" he inwardly cringed. That's why he knew her. 

"Angelica says 'hi'," Eliza beamed, looking up from her phone. He raced down the rest of the list without much error. 

In fact, the rest of the class went pretty much as planned. The only problem he had was with a small group of teens that tried to convince him that Greene didn't grade homework and let them use their notes on the test. The threat of an email to their actual teacher shut them up, giggling nervously to hide their annoyance. 

The bell signaled their dismissal, he buried himself into his laptop to avoid the possibility of a conversation with Eliza about his fling with her older sister. He wondered how Angelica was doing- they had parted on relatively good terms but hadn't remained in contact. The first wave of students poured out and was replaced with another group, similar in size. This group went right to work _talking_ , but Alex dismissed it-study block. He'd call for a noise adjustment whenever they got too rowdy and entertained some questions about who he was. 

"How old are you?"

"60, next question."

"What's your first name?"

"Paul. Next,"

"Why are you lying to us?"

He shrugged this one off. The class laughed, delighted by his will to joke along. He released them a minute early for lunch and went to grab one of the granola bars from his bag.

Coffee cup. Full. _Cold_. 

He had wondered why he felt a headache prickle at the edges of his brain and downed the cup in three or four gulps, stopping for air in between. 

So it wasn't coffee, it was a chai latté with a shot of espresso. It didn't have as much caffeine as he would normally require, but the gesture of Washington getting him his favorite drink warmed him in place of the heat that the drink had lost. He lied to himself, told himself that Washington had known and had packed meaning into the gesture. It was probably coincidence. 

His thoughts of Washington were cut off by a man who walked in the door like he owned the place. 

"You're not Gates. Who are _you_?" Tenor voice, confident, a hint of a southern twang. Dense curls surrounded his head in a dark halo, well groomed facial hair set on his wide jaw around a set of pursed lips. 

"I'm Hamilton, I'm the new sub."

"Oh so _you're_ the doll that Washington was telling us about." _Doll?_

"Excuse me?"

"Oh nothing," a grin exposed his toothy, Crest white strip smile. He sauntered over to the desk that Alex was seated at and jutted out a hand, dark hair peeking past the cuff of his deep, violet shirt onto his wrist under a heavy silver watch. 

"Jefferson. Be seeing you." Alex struggled to close his mouth, Jefferson deliberately swaying his hips as he made his leave. 

He blinked away his confusion, tore into his granola bar and made his way out of his class and quietly into Washington's. A stern-faced, round nosed man stood a few feet from Washington's desk, engaged in a visibly mundane conversation. 

Alex purposely crinkled the wrapper of his granola bar to announce his arrival. 

"Hamilton!" Washington voiced with pleasure. "This is Benjamin Tallmadge, he's got the worksheets for your government classes." 

Benjamin offered a hand, fingers short and wide, and Alex shook it. They exchanged pleasantries and Tallmadge left, Alex standing in front of Washington, who remained sitting. 

"Please, grab a seat," Washington gestured at a spare chair. Alex settled, breaking off a chunk of the granola bar and shoving it in his mouth. 

"Hope you don't mind, sir. I skipped breakfast this morning." Washington raised an eyebrow as he picked up his own sandwich, half eaten. 

"So," Washington took a single bite before putting the sandwich back down and rubbing his hands together. Alex's resolve crumbled and he let his eyes rake up Washington's legs, crotch, stomach, chest- his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his bite and Alex looked away, fidgeting with his hands. 

"How are your classes so far?" 

Alex had to clear his throat before speaking, voice hoarse. 

"Good," he snapped back to professional enthusiasm, "The study block kids got a bit loud, sorry if you could hear us." 

Silence hung thickly. Washington adjusted, scooting to the edge of his seat to rest his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. 

"Do you have any admirers, yet?"

Alex sputtered, question knocking him out of his carefully composed air of professionalism. 

"I don't. I don't think so? I don't know, how can you- how do you even _know_?" His pulse picked up- these past few days were going to wear his heart out at this rate. 

"It depends. Sometimes it's just staring. Sometimes they get nervous, or stick around a bit longer than everyone after class, employ a more respectful decorum; anything to make themselves look like a model student."

Silence again. _Alex, say something, don't freak out._ It took him a moment, but he mustered up the words.

"Do you have any students like that this year?" the words nearly got caught in his throat. The second he processed what he had actually said, jealousy flashed through him. _It wouldn't matter if he did_ , Alex reassured himself, _Washington would never act._

Washington inhaled, leaning back to drape one arm over the back of the chair and cross one leg over the other. The fabric of his shirt strained, gapping where the buttons weren't holding it together.

A sigh.

"Just one."

"Really?" Washington closed his eyes with a small nod. The bell rang and Alex rose, half-eaten granola bar still in his hand. Washington made his way to stand outside for his next class. 

Alex felt a hand just below the small of his back, pinky-side of the palm stopping just above the line of his pants. 

 _That's a little more than friendly_ , Alex thought dryly. His thoughts were incredibly cool compared to the flush of warmth that reached all the way to his fingertips. 

He dove headfirst into his work for the rest of the day, writing a piece on the fiscal policies of Virginia senators when he wasn't busy with the class to distract himself from the solid warmth of Washington's hand, his body just far enough away that Alex couldn't smell him. If he could've smelled him Alex didn't know what he could've possibly done to chase the thoughts away. He wondered if Washington could smell him, too, with his obnoxious conditioner. 

Alex's heart sank as he replayed the conversation from earlier.

Washington had listed everything that Alex had done when he'd been in his class, and implied that it had been a regular occurrence. 

Third block APGov was a near repeat of first block, and fourth block was just busy work. The announcements sounded, the bell rang and the students left. He popped into Washington's door.

"See you tomorrow, sir." 

_Don't make eye contact._

"Have a good night, Alex."

He all but ran to his car, blew the stop sign out of the faculty parking lot and sped home, hand anxiously tapping the steering wheel. 

Park, lock car, unlock door, drop bags, lock door. 

He threw himself face first onto his bed and immediately unbuckled his belt, face sideways on the pillow so he could breathe. He didn't bother taking off his pants, sliding a shaky hand into his boxers, immediately circling his already swollen dick. 

He panted, imagining the same, heavy hand from earlier being the one to pull him apart, shove him down by his neck and take what he wanted. 

He didn't last long, turning his face to all but shout his release into the pillows, coming into his hand and making a mess of the front of his boxers. 

Because, to be honest, he had been thinking about this since lunch this afternoon. 

And, to be honest, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe Washington wanted him to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i'm working on fixing the notes for chapters 1 and 2, something happened and I've been away from the computer so I haven't gotten the chance to fix it? sorry)  
> in the occasion that these notes post correctly: hello! you're welcome for that upgraded rating B)  
> i don't have too much to say about this, it's mostly just establishing a lot of loose ends right now. expect more loose ends!!  
> stay tuned for more pining, shame, washington teasing and jefferson being himself (i guess i'll also have to explain alex's relationship with john/lafayette/mulligan eventually)  
> shampoo: suave almond& shea butter  
> conditioner: organix argan oil of morocco (get a whiff next time you see some y'all)


	4. A Question Left Unanswered

The rest of the week went about the same as Monday, the experience of being back in high school making Alex feel simultaneously very young and very _old_.The jargon amongst the students rivaled the casual conversations at Columbia- same interests, same slang. _We all use the same internet_ , Alex guessed. He made sure to dodge all of Eliza's attempts to talk one-on-one with him, which wasn't too difficult seeing as she only had his class three times a week. The weekend came. Alexander got his materials organized and drafted a lesson plan for his regular government class, trashed it because it was too difficult and started over, mostly stealing from worksheets that were posted online. He hated to feel like he was _"dumbing"_ things down for students. He knew all of them were capable, but few were passionate. He'd engaged in meaningful discussion with a few students about local government and the voting process and made it a point to remember their names. A feisty group of girls made it a point to bring up articles about the current election and Alex was all too eager to talk about it in the minutes before class. Aside from lesson planning, he ran to the grocery store, bought coffee, rice, and scored some cans of chicken noodle soup for cheap. He was too nervous to stock up his pantry before getting his first actual paycheck, so he checked out and left before he put back the items he already had in his hands. 

Monday rolled around just the same as the one before it, only with less nerves and coffee brewed that morning. He grabbed an english muffin that he ate on the drive to work and parked in his usual parking spot- far from the building. 

As much as he disliked the cold, Alex liked the few minutes in the fresh air. The temperature woke him up and the sunrise was beautiful. His Columbia classes were still early, usually starting at eight, but that was already so far past sunrise. Somehow seeing the sky go from black to orange to pink got him ready for the day better than waking up to an already-blue sky did. 

He pulled out his temporary I.D. and scanned it to get into the building. He walked past Jefferson in the hallway but didn't dare say anything- he seemed deeply invested his company. The man next to him was a bit shorter, compact muscle with a deep complexion. They walked by too quick for Alex to grab more than a glance at them, but he'd meet them sooner or later. His schedule on odd days was nice because his second period was a free block for him to work on whatever he wanted for an hour and a half. His government class got to test out the materials he'd scrounged up over the weekend and, with much complaining, decided that the worksheets weren't actually too bad. About ten minutes before the bell rang to dismiss his first class, he got a text, phone display lighting up next to his laptop. 

_John:_

_hey alex! call me when you get the chance._

They hadn't talked, verbally, much in a few weeks. At first, Alex holed up in his apartment and refused to talk to _anyone_. Then classes started up at Columbia and nobody had much time to pay attention to Alex and he'd humored the occasional text that he'd get asking him how he was, telling him about something somebody said at a party, telling him he was missed. 

The bell rang. Alex called John. 

_"Alex! I'm so glad you called, I'm- I really- I dunno, I guess I just-"_

"Yes, John, I miss you too," Alex laughed into the words. He couldn't help but smile, relieved that they could ditch their pride and talk to each other. 

John told Alex about all of his classes after Alex had insisted that he needed to hear about Columbia more than John needed to hear about high school. Things were, apparently, not going too well. There had been a lot of protests that Alex normally would've loved to participate in, but they'd resulted in some harsh discipline. John said he felt like he had more eyes on him than normal and people didn't talk to him as much knowing that he was a "troublemaker". The thought made Alex's blood boil. 

_"Enough about me. What the hell have you been doing down there?"_

Alex explained the situation with Greene, talked about the lesson plans he'd written, complained about waking up earlier, talked about Eliza. 

_"Alex,"_ John's apprehension was clear enough with the sound of his voice. 

"What?"

_"What about that teacher, Washington?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"Don't play dumb. Are you drooling all over him or what?"_

Alex paused, listening to the sound of Washington writing on his chalkboard through the wall. He remembered the night he had told John about Washington his freshman year- he had been drunk, it was truth or dare. 

"Okay. I've been keeping it together. But he's been...I don't know,"

_"Dude, is he into you?"_

"No!" Alex drummed his fingers on his desk. "Or. I don't know? I don't want to assume. I doubt it. He treats me differently now because I'm a graduate but. I don't know." The memory of their reunion came back to him, Washington's hand on his face, gentle, behind his car. 

"He like. He kinda touched my face? And he puts his hand on my shoulder a lot. Or my back, actually, he touches me a lot, but I don't want to assume. I don't want to make my job _hell_ , John," his nervousness at the idea channeled into frustration, guilt biting at him. 

_"Alex he's like halfway to sexual harassment territory, I think your relationship goes a bit beyond coworkers."_ Alex couldn't tell if he was concerned or just making a joke in poor taste. 

"I mean, if I had it my way we wouldn't be very professional at all."

_"Gross. Chase those wet dreams, Alex."_

"Now _you're_ being gross."

The bell rang, John laughed into the speaker. 

_"Alright, I'll leave you alone, dude,"_

"I don't have a class for another half hour," Alex said, standing up to peer into the hallway. He leaned up against the wall next to the door. 

_"Don't you have some one to make out with right now?"_

"John," Alex tried to bite out, smile making it impossible to sound as threatening as he wanted. He meant to protest, but ended up confessing something instead. 

"I miss you, John. Sleeping alone is hard," a laugh from John's end, "oh, shut up. I'm serious."

_"I miss you, too, Alex. What are you doing for Thanksgiving? You're more than welcome to accompany me in South Carolina. Actually I'm begging you."_

"As long as I'm still little spoon and the turkey isn't burnt to shit, I should be able to make it."

John began to talk about his plans but Alex turned at the sound of footsteps approaching his door. 

"Oh, shit, John I gotta go. I'll text you." John whined into his phone and yelled something like _"miss your sweet ass"_ before Alex could end the call. 

_How much did he hear?_

The blood in his body ran cold as Washington scanned the hallway and closed the door behind him. 

"Sir?"

"Alexander," Washington stood, thick arms crossed over his broad chest. He felt small again. Washington's demeanor betrayed nothing, but Alex couldn't help but feel like he was in trouble. 

"Who was that?" He was fucked. He'd ruined his chances, if he could've just _closed the door_ \- the thought finished itself. 

"My friend, John. He goes to Columbia. We used to live together."

"Sleep together."

He could've sworn his heart stopped beating- was Washington disapproving of his sexuality? Was he upset at Alex for talking on his phone? Was he upset that Alex was talking about that at school when a student could overhear?

"Sir, it's not what you think we're just friends I-" 

"Alexander, calm down." Washington uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumbs into belt loops and his fingers into his pockets. A bit more relaxed. Alex's heart still hammered in his chest. 

"I always figured you fond of women, that's all." 

This wasn't the conversation he wanted to have. This was embarrassing.

"I'm, uh, actually fond of both. Men and women, sir," he wanted to disappear into the earth's crust, compact into magma until the only thing left was carbon and he could be used as the next generations' fuel.

Washington hummed, taking a step forward until he towered over Alex. Alex's back hit the painted brick wall. 

His dick twitched in interest and he felt heat wash to his face in humiliation. _Alex, you're in trouble, this is inappropriate._

"If that's the case, then I have a question for you." Alex gulped. Here comes the biphobia. He's never heard Washington talk on the topic of sexuality, he could be awful for all Alex knew. 

"Sir?" his voice struggled to escape his throat. 

"Do you remember when you asked if I had any students who admired me the other week?" Alex nodded, swallowing thickly. 

"And do you remember when I told you that I could tell when one did?" Another step forward. Alex was fully pressed against the wall. 

_Oh._

"Sir, I don't understand what you're trying-" Alex finally met his eyes. The fluorescent lights that cast Washington in shadow made it hard to tell, but his eyes seemed darker. Hungrier. 

Washington brought a hand to Alex's face, wide hand gently grasping his jaw. Alex's eyes widened and he thought he might melt under Washington's gaze. He choked a gasp as Washington stooped, turning Alex's head and bringing his face to breathe hot onto Alex's neck. 

"I think we both know who that student is," he whispered. Alex could smell him, the body heat he was close enough to feel all over him gave off deep notes of bergamot and citrus and vanilla and spice and Alex was slipping. His resolve was slipping, his control was slipping, his strength was slipping. 

"Was it me, sir?" Alex whispered, speech impeded by the grip on his jaw. Washington's other hand rose up to the center of Alex's chest. 

"Your heart is beating so _fast_ , Alexander." Alex opened his mouth to try and gulp in air, Washington's thumb and fingers now holding his mouth open through his cheeks. It was something he could easily escape just by wriggling away, but Alex was frozen in place. He was absolutely sure at this point that Washington could see his erection straining against his slacks and feel Alex's own heat burning under his grip. He was trying not to hold his breath, scared he would overheat. 

Someone rapped their knuckles on the door causing Alex to jump and Washington to growl a swear. _He doesn't like being interrupted,_ Alex noted, head spinning. He panicked as Washington backed away, pointing at a desk. 

"Sit." He sat at the desk he had laid papers out on. Washington opened the door, annoyance thinly apparent in his voice when he spoke. 

"Hello, Mr. Jefferson." Oh great. 

"Mr. Washington! I just came by to ask how Mr. Hamilton was holding up. I wanted to introduce him to James." 

If Jefferson knew anything was amiss, he didn't let it on. The three of them chatted a bit, Jefferson talking about himself and his peers. He told Alex that he taught French, his friend, James Madison, taught Geography, Aaron Burr taught economics, and about more teachers that he hadn't quite caught onto. Most of his focus was on crossing his legs and willing the warmth off of his face. Jefferson pushed himself off of the desk he was perched on and made his way out. "Goodbye, gentlemen. Class is about to start." He exited. The two waited for a moment before either of them spoke. Washington started.

"The real reason I came in here," he said, voice completely composed, "was to make sure you had my phone number. You haven't contacted me yet." 

"I'm sorry sir I just hadn't had the need to contact you after hours," he was beginning to cool down a bit. 

"Then I'll just reiterate what I wrote on that note. Contact me," Washington paused, Alex looked up to meet his gaze again, "about anything."

He left the room. Alex remained still, dazed, until the bell rang and he dashed for his desk before students came in. He was still half-sporting an unfortunate and uncomfortable affliction. About halfway through the class he had assigned book work, giving him a brief chance to program Washington's phone number into his contacts. 

The day ended, Alex gave Washington a chaste nod on his way out, fighting every instinct in his body to go back and talk to him.

For the second time in his one-week career Alex drove home just to shove his pants down to his knees and come quicker than he could talk himself out of it. 

As soon as his pulse evened out he washed up and reached for his phone. 

What was he supposed to even text Washington? _hey it's Alex, just got off thinking about your huge hands, what's up_

He stared at the keyboard of his phone. Maybe he shouldn't text. Maybe he should try to keep his distance for a while, see if Washington was actually serious. 

_to G. Washington:_

_Hello sir, this is Alexander._

He shut off the display and tossed his phone a few feet away on his bed. Washington couldn't have known that Alex had been desperately fucking into his fist minutes earlier, but the shame caught up to him far quicker than he could hope to outrun. 

He turned on the television for some background noise and pulled out the notebook that he'd been collecting work in, grading the worksheets he'd neglected in favor of talking to John earlier. 

He was glad for the mindless task of marking incorrect answers, correcting them, recording the grade over and over. He was about half way through the stack when his phone rang. His heart lurched before he grabbed his phone, hesitant to look at who was calling. 

It was a toll-free number. 

Washington didn't text back that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tjeff: ya just got cockblocked ;~)  
> new fic title "washington exists; hamilton nuts alone in his apartment"  
> i hope you guys are cool with alex's casual not-quite romantic relationship with john. they're both cuddly, it was inevitable.  
> fun fact time: i took a final in one of my classes today and TOTALLY FAILED IT because i couldn't stop thinking of ideas for this fic. expect GOOD STUFF soon because it just brought my A down to a C


	5. A Series of Bold Moves

Tuesday happened without much word from Washington. Wednesday brought about the gentle nudge of an arm as the two walked side-by-side in the hallway. If it were anyone else, _anywhere else_ , Alex would've taken it as an intimately silent request to lace their fingers together. Thursday brought only an exchange of pleasantries- the test Washington had given was an unexpected disaster, his students were pestering him for extra credit at any opportunity. Alex didn't mind. He could preoccupy himself. 

Friday was interesting. 

"The orchestra is performing tonight, it's supposedly a tribute to the American Sound. My orchestra kids have been practically begging and I promised extra credit to anyone I saw there. I thought you may be interested." The request had come at lunch in Alexander's classroom. Alex looked up from the bag of chips he was halfway through eating- Washington didn't announce himself before the question. No prelude. 

"What time is it?" Hamilton asked, voice muffled by the back of his hand he dragged across his mouth to clear the crumbs. Warmth flooded through him and stuck in the back of his throat at the gesture. He was getting better at maintaining himself, Washington's presence not spiking his adrenaline so long as he kept a healthy distance. He was more hesitant to admit his fondness to Washington than his attraction, seeing romance as more of a vulnerability than sexual pursuit. 

"It's at seven thirty. I can come pick you up from your house, if you'd like."

  _He's spoon feeding this to you, Alex. You can't turn it down._

"Sure." He kept an external calm, but inside he was focusing on the image of confetti and party streamers against a chorus of _"You did it, Alex!"_ to distract himself from the ball of nervous excitement that was steadily winding its way up in between his lungs and his stomach. He scrawled his address and apartment number on the back of a detention slip and handed it to Washington who's amusement struck a chord, deep in a place inside his chest that Alex tried to beat down. _It's okay to want his dick, you shouldn't want to hold his hand._

"Then I'll be there at seven, Alexander."

"I shall await your arrival with bated breath, sir." 

Alexander would hardly describe himself as a shameful person, the intricacies of flirting came to him as easily as the tirades about the wage gap he so often went off on, but at this very moment he was resisting the intense urge to shove _both_ feet in his mouth. He considered printing out the page of the workplace handbook about "respecting your coworkers" and taping copies of it on every surface around him. 

But then again, Washington had been pretty forthcoming. So Alexander decided to play his own game. He steepled his hands, rested his head atop the table he made for himself and ever so slightly tilted his head, looking up at Washington through his lashes. It was innocent enough to be construed as a joke, but Washington caught on quick, an almost indiscernible leer flashing fast enough that Alex would have missed it if he'd not been looking for it.  

"I'll see you at seven. Sharp." 

He had repeated himself. _The bedroom eyes worked_ , Alex tucked this knowledge away for further use. Washington turned on his heels and made his leave. 

Third block government gave him hell that day, the students argued amongst themselves about voting habits. According to the survey Alex made them take, the majority of them were independent from either political party- but he had one incredibly liberal young student and one ridiculously conservative young man. He was perfectly content to moderate the argument, letting them go at it- they were young adults and school was a relatively safe environment to form some good debate skills. This class, though, his left-winged kid brought a thick packet of statistics on the wage crisis and its effects on people of color. Every time they brought up a fact, their conservative counterpart called bullshit and attempted to shout over them. 

" _Class_ , please keep your conversations respectful,"

"Oh _come on_ , Mr. Hamilton, you're just siding with her-" the student loudly objected to their misused pronouns, "-because she's a liberal and you're one of _them_." He had put up with much of the same at Columbia, usually with more compelling arguments and less shouting. It didn't stir anything up in him, but lefty was fuming. He had to bite back his delight at their defense of him. 

"Oh, _I'm sorry_ , I'm sure Mr. Hamilton is so offended by your half boiled opinion of him. Do you honestly think you could contest his political opinions, he _literally_  went to Columbia. Have fun going to community college when your baseball career slips through your greasy republican fingers."

"Community college isn't something to be ashamed of," Hamilton corrected, "and my attendance at Columbia doesn't mean my beliefs are better than anyone else's- there are a lot of students with deep wallets and unfounded beliefs that go to that school." He had to shut down any further spat, and he pulled his little left-winger back after class.

"I understand you have strong opinions and, between us, our political beliefs are very similar," Alex started, trying to be simultaneously disciplinary and gentle. 

"But?"

"But you have to be mindful of what you say. You can't be an advocate for the lower-middle class and impoverished people and then use community college as an insult." 

They voiced their understanding and wheeled out of the classroom, trying and failing to not look embarrassed. Fourth block went by quick. On his way out he was stopped by Jefferson, accompanied by a man who was slightly shorter with small black eyes, a handsome nose and smile lines settled into his chiseled face. 

"Hamilton!" Jefferson enthused, bringing his arm around to pat the man on the back. 

"This is Mr. Burr, the economics teacher I told you about," Burr gave a measured nod and a bright smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Alex shook the hand he was presented with, Burr's strong grip surprised him. He took note of Burr's elegantly long fingers, buffed fingernails and heavy gold class ring. He couldn't make out the school before they parted. 

 

He made the drive home, heated up a can of soup and set out an outfit for the evening. Then he took out another outfit. Then he tried them both on, decided against both and shoveled through his closet. By the time he had gotten an outfit that _matched_ he had been wearing a silvery-gray buttoned shirt an a pair of black pants that weren't exactly jeans but weren't slacks either. They were tight, they stopped low on his hips, they probably made his ass look great. He wrapped a tie around his neck so he wouldn't forget one later and sat at the breakfast nook, downloading and reformatting some new legislation to print for his classes. 

When the door buzzed, Alex nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped his head around to look out the window, the sun was slipping under the skyline. He stumbled to the door, opening it to an eyeful of Washington's chest. 

"Sir, I'm so sorry I didn't notice the time I just need a minute to wash up and-" before even saying anything, Washington reached out to grab both ends of his tie. He gently looped the end into a knot and adjusted it, snug against Alex's collar. He smoothed it against Alex's chest _then_ acknowledged him. 

"Alright," he mumbled, voice coming from deep within him. A nudge to his sternum before bringing his hand away.

"Wash up." 

 _This domestic shit is going to kill me_ Alex thought. In every iteration of every fantasy he'd conjured with his teacher they had all been filthy, depraved trysts, kissing then avoiding his eyes in class, staying after school to suck his cock, getting pinned into the corner and fucked within an inch of his life. 

But this was a date. 

And Washington had tied his tie for him. He was too flustered to be embarrassed about the haphazard mess in his apartment or even notice that he had made his way into his bathroom to brush his teeth. He reached into his cabinet before turning out of the bathroom to leave. He had held onto a bottle of fragrance oil that Angelica had left at his house years ago- the scent too woodsy and warm for her tastes but too feminine for Alex to typically get away with. 

 _You kinky shit do not put on perfume_ , part of him said. Another part, probably the part of his brain that told his dick what to do argued _do it, do it do it do it_. He settled halfway between, dabbing the smallest amount on his wrists and then the pulse points on his neck. Washington could only smell him if Alex was hot and he was _close_. He was okay with that. 

He rejoined Washington who had taken to leaning in the doorway. His heart leapt, staying safely in the back of his throat. Washington smiled softly. 

"Ready?" 

"Let's go," Alex breathed, voice wavering. Washington couldn't have possibly missed that. He slipped on his coat and grabbed his wallet.

Alex climbed into Washington's SUV, brand new leather seats still warm from the drive over here. He knew that Washington came from money, taking a teaching more to keep him busy with something he loved than out of necessity. What he didn't know is that the brand new white Lincoln in the faculty parking lot was _his_ and he kicked himself for being so oblivious. 

The car ride over was a chance for Alex to tell the story about the debate in class that day, Washington humming in acknowledgement and turning to look at him when he said something particularly interesting. Washington laughed at the nicknames he gave the students, seemingly pleased that Alex chose not to disclose their names. They pulled up to the school for the second time that day, parking lot illuminated by the headlights of vehicles scrambling to park. 

The air bit at every inch of skin not covered, the warm sanctuary of Washigton's car dissipating as they stepped out. Winter had come early this year, cold front after cold front. Alex beat back the thought of tucking himself into the cleft of Washington's chest, enveloping himself in his warmth. He could manage his heart at the back of his throat, but he couldn't risk letting it escape. So there it stayed, overpowering and dizzying and wonderful and terrible. Washington led him toward the building, hand chastely resting on Alex's elbow. 

"Sir, this is a school function, we can't be doing this." Washington's eyes scanned the parking lot, he seemed to consider his options and he removed his elbow. The pair rushed the rest of the way inside, ushered by docents who instructed them to be silent upon entering the theater. They hadn't missed any of the actual performance, the conductor was saying a few words to open the show. Hamilton filed down an aisle of seats, legs knocking against the armrests of the chairs, until he took his seat at the far left chair in the very back row of the house. 

_We're very proud of these students onstage for arranging this event so soon into the school year. In light of the ongoing election, the students took it upon themselves to look back to the nascence of our country and reflect on where we are and where we started._

The audience applauded as Alex settled into his seat, tucking his elbows between the armrests and crossing his ankles. Washington folded the program into the gap between the armrests to his left, his elbow resting on their shared armrest, supporting his head with his hand. 

Alex had lasted through about twenty minutes of the performance with his eyes open. He tried to justify it to himself by saying it helped him focus more on the melodies and layers of sound, helped him picture the homestead that Gershwin was composing about. Truthfully, the music was lulling and Alexander was exhausted. The shortening daylight hours always sapped his energy, usually starting to yawn with the sunset. 

The auditorium wasn't as warm as Washington's car, Alex wasn't sure if it was because the seats weren't heated the same or if it was because he hadn't been coming down from the flush that had taken over him when Washington fixed his tie.

He must have been falling asleep, because he jumped into awareness when he felt a gentle hand slip to rest on his knee. Washington traced gentle circles into the fabric of his pants, broad palm emitting heat onto his thigh. Instead of panicking, instead of shifting away or whipping around to look at Washington and plead for answers that he'd never get, he eased.

Alex unlaced his fingers, moving his left hand to slide over Washington's thick wrist and cover the hand with his own. His fingers stopped just before the third knuckles of Washington's, more slender, more soft. Compared to Angelica's hands, John's hands, Alex's were average, short nail beds giving them just enough masculinity to make up for their proportionately shorter size. But in contrast to Washington's hands, to Washington himself, Alex felt frail.

They adjusted, twining their fingers together and Alex's heart felt fit to burst, the air felt trapped in his lungs. Washington maneuvered their arms to the armrest and Alex made a bold move, like most things, before he could regret it. As the woodwinds transitioned to a swelling forte, Alex rested the side of his head on Washington's shoulder, nuzzling into it. Washington twitched, Alex felt his pulse in every part of his body. The two of them relaxed until the music died down into a mezzo piano and concluded. Alex had to pry his eyes open when he felt Washington stir, joining the audience for a standing ovation. He rose to his own two feet, legs prickling with the sudden blood flow after nearly an hour and a half of sitting, sleeping. 

Alex trailed behind Washington back into the parking lot, the two ducking out before the orchestra packed up and mingled, before the traffic could impede their dismissal. The vents blew cold air for a minute before the heat settled in, first in the seats.

The two talked about the performance, Alex feigning tiredness for his lull in conversation. His head fogged with confusion and frustration, affection and want. 

They pulled into the parking spot next to Alex's car and Washington paced to the passenger side of the vehicle, opening the door for Alex. 

Dread seeped into him as quick as the cold did as the door of his apartment came into visibility over the stairs. _Don't say goodnight yet,_ his brain pleaded- to Washington or himself, he didn't know. 

"Sir?" Alex asked, turning his back to his door before Washington could retreat back to his SUV.

"Yes, Alexander?" 

"What are we doing? Us? I'm all for flirting but I need to know if-" Alex paused, doubt bubbling up to where his affection had been lodged in his throat not minutes before. Washington cocked an eyebrow, not moving from his spot several feet away. 

"I need to know if this is...if this is anything." The words hung in the air, Washington soaked them in with a heavy inhale. 

He finally inched forward, taking a step in between Alex's legs and guiding him backward. This was something Alex could understand. Washington threading his fingers into Alex's own as though he were a delicate gold chain he was inspecting, shifting sand, something worthy of reverent appraisal was something a bit harder to comprehend. His back made contact with the door, cold permeating his coat and pushing him closer to Washington's chest, exactly where he wanted to be. 

"I don't know, Alexander," a purr, rumbling hoarse in his chest and into Alex's bones. 

Washington brought Alex's hands to the door beside his face with his own, caging him in. The cold metal was so far away, though, when Washington bent, capturing Alex's lips in a gentle kiss. His body felt numb, weightless everywhere he wasn't touching Washington as he tilted his face to kiss deeper, harder. He was starved, he sighed into the kiss, he tried to escalate, but Washington's heavy warmth and command slowed him back down. The burning need coursed through his veins, begging for more, anything, but Alex settled to melt. 

They broke, Alex sucked in cold air. 

"Was that something?" The tease didn't make it to his face, hard brow remaining in place as his eyes traced hungrily along Alex's kissed wet lips. He knew restraint when he saw it. And he knew how to break it. 

Washington's hands lightened on Alexander's, allowing him the chance to slip out of his grip and grab at the fabric of Washington's coat, yanking him back into another kiss. The resolve was shattered. Alex bit and licked at Washington's bottom lip before surrendering, Washington jamming his tongue into Alex's mouth. Back against the door they went, Washington pawing blindly at the lapels of Alex's jacket, licking hungrily into his mouth and drawing out the desperate, muffled moans that Alex knew would come out of him would he ever get the chance to live his fantasy. They parted briefly, lips still touching as they fought for oxygen, before Washington dragged his hands, not as cold as Alex had anticipated, up to cup at the jut of his jaw just under his ears. He pressed a dizzying kiss to Alex before lowering his head to plant a kiss to Alex's throat, pausing to inhale. 

"That smell was _you_ ," he whispered, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down as far as he could with their current state of dress. Alex tilted his head to the side, baring as much of himself as he could and cutting a moan short- exhaling sharply. He bucked up his hips, grinding into Washington's own crotch, moving his hands to clutch at Washington's waist. This elicited a growl, but made him cease his actions. Alex whined at the loss, but his pride wasn't wounded long when he adjusted to look Washington in the eyes. 

Washington looked at him like he'd made him with his own hands and wanted to tear him apart with those same two hands. The line between lust and adoration was blurred, Alex felt himself go weak. He felt like he was intruding, like Washington was exposing more than he thought. Worse yet, Alex was in the exact same spot. And he was desperate for more. 

"Come inside," Alex whispered, a plea. 

Washington grunted and the corners of his mouth turned up. 

"I think I should go."

"Please, sir, I need-"

"You need to take care of something. I'll leave you to it. Good night Alexander."

He felt Washington's heavy steps on the deck below his feet, heard his car unlock. He heard the ignition start and heard him shift into reverse and drive, engine quiet, out of the neighborhood. 

He could hear his heart, now, clear of distractions. Thudding. Flooding.  

He was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insert audio of me SCREAMING (and probably you guys screaming, too)  
> so! alex handled some stuff like a teacher, met burr, appreciated the arts and then  
> well. you read it.  
> i accidentally put a lot of feelings into this fic. i couldn't let u guys off the hook with a quick fuck, it's just who i am.  
> also, i'm 30 minutes late (est) but the apush exam was yesterday! i was trying to post this chapter the day of, but i just barely missed.  
> to come in future chapters: either some gwash pov or some dialogue to reveal his actual feelings, more burr, more john, possible angelica? actually, Anything Could Happen. hang in there.  
> (ps: your comments are absolutely the best and they make writing/posting really fun!! thanks for creating an environment where i can post filth and get applause for it, i love u all)


	6. Going Places

Something happened to high schoolers the week before Thanksgiving break. Their productivity plummeted, they talked a remarkable amount about food and their families, but mostly they complained. 

"Why don't we get the whole week off? We used to get more time off." Alex had a hard time keeping his patience, the snide outbursts that he gave were hardly the tip of the iceberg of his fits of frustration. The occasional "hey guys, know you're excited for turkey but we have stuff to do, it's just one more class" shouted over the noise of the class had earned him some new descriptive titles. Now instead of _cool dude_ , he was _maybe crazy_ or, to some, _a total dick_.

John had bought Alex's plane ticket to South Carolina without asking him when he would be able to come, making Alex take a sick day on Wednesday. For someone who had been working for just barely a month, it looked bad. His students only had two days to really give him a hard time, and they seemed determined to give him a run for his money. But then he remembered why he was there, who was teaching next door.  

His nerves were frazzled and he was anxious about his ditching work on Wednesday, but he needed to talk to Washington. Alone. 

The bell dismissed the students on Monday and Alex wasted no time packing his belongings, locking up his class and barging into the one next door. Washington was typing on his laptop, offering little more than a glance. _So I'm gonna have to work for it_. He pulled the door behind him. 

"Sir?"

"Alexander, how was your weekend?" He couldn't fight back the memory of Friday night, working himself open with three fingers after Washington had left him slumped against the door. It hadn't made him mad like he thought it would, but it was embarrassing how badly he wanted Washington afterward- bed cold and apartment silent. 

"It was fine. I won't be here Wednesday, I have a flight to South Carolina tomorrow evening."

Washington hummed, closing his laptop gently and rising from his chair. He walked past Alex, opening the door to peer in the hallway. The last time he did that, he and Alex were tucked into a corner, Alex suffocating on his own heat. The coast must've been clear, Washington locked the door, flipped off the light and gestured for Alex to follow him to the corner. 

_Stop letting him do this._

The original voice, the one that tried to talk him out of visiting Washington after returning home, was still trying to steer Alex away. But Washington was magnetic, he was commanding without words and to disobey an order was unthinkable. Alex had no choice.

He hoisted himself up to sit on a desk in the back corner of the classroom, Washington a fair enough distance away. 

"Let me give you a ride to the airport."

"Sir I can't ask you to do that," Alex wasn't sure _what_ he was feeling.

"You don't have to ask. I'm offering."

The price of a cab wasn't much of a problem, he knew that he'd be taken care of at the Laurens household. But the cabin of the SUV was nice. And it didn't hurt to have some help with getting on the flight. 

"Sure," Alex sighed in defeat. "My flight leaves at five, we should get there an hour early." Washington crossed the distance between them, squaring his hips between Alex's knees. He considered hooking his legs around Washington and pulling him close, but he didn't. The nature of their relationship was still so far up in the air. 

"Are you ready for your flight?" 

The question settled into Alex's skin, the familiar warmth prickling at him. 

"No."

"What do you need?" Washington's broad hands covered Alex's knees, heavy grip sliding gently up to his mid-thigh, thumbs rubbing into the sensitive flesh on the inside of his thighs through his slacks. Alex grabbed at Washington's waist, pulling him forward. He raised his eyebrows, inquisitive but otherwise pleased with the direction of the situation. Alex leaned forward, stretching his neck until their noses touched. 

What Alex needed was clear enough, his fingers tightening as he pressed the first kiss onto Washington's lips this time. It was slow, it was soft, it was _romantic._

Alex wanted to scream.

He straightened his posture, pulling back from the kiss to amend his unspoken answer to Washington's question. 

"I need answers," Washington's grip moved from his thighs to grab Alex by the hips. The pressure so close to Alex's ass flooded warmth to pool in his crotch, muscles of his thighs tensing in a forlorn attempt to keep the blood flowing to his legs instead of just his dick. 

"Alright."

"Why did you leave on Friday?" He focused his eyes on Washington's own, studying them. The dim glow of the sun setting through the classroom windows brought out amber flecks, almost disappearing around his dilated pupils. They held the stare for a moment until Washington sighed, hot breath washing over Alex's face. He backed away a bit. 

"Alexander, I've been teaching for a long time. Students having feelings for teachers isn't at all unusual, _you_ know that. I always write off these students because I have to. It's my job. I see my students as my own children." Alex's stomach coiled, cold guilt settled in the pit of his abdomen. 

"But you're different. Not just now, you've _always_ been different." Alex's gaze had fallen to Washington's collar, but he snapped it back up to Washington's own face. His brow was creased, his eyes squinted as though he was having trouble finding the words. 

"Alex, when I caught on to your crush I was worried. I tried for months to talk myself out of having any sort of attraction for you, but every day I'd step out into that hallway and you'd be there. I can't place what it is about you that stops me dead in my tracks. I was ashamed of myself, you were _seventeen_ , Alexander." Alex wanted to say something, defend Washington from his own accusations, but the words wouldn't form. 

"But now you're not my student. You're not a child. You're right here where I can finally have you like I've always wanted you."

_Always._

The tightness of his stomach left, curling instead around his heart and squeezing red-hot need through him again. 

"Sir you can have me, please, I'm here and I've wanted it for so long please, God, you're all I need just-" 

"Alex." He snapped back to attention. Washington pulled at Alex's hips edging him so that he was flush against his own crotch. Through his wool slacks, Alex could feel the distinct bulge of Washington's dick, hard.

"You'll get what you want soon enough, son," the nickname sent a rush of heat through Alex, his own erection almost painfully hard and trapped in the confines of his pants. The hands on his back left, pulling Alex's face to Washington's own. Alex's head was tilted at an obscene angle, letting Washington's tongue slide past his own, sucking hungrily into his mouth. Alex shuddered, imagining what that tongue would feel like fucking into his ass, eating him out. 

"Sir, _please_ ," he choked, voice reedy with desperation when they broke for air. Washington made a small noise at the back of his throat, going back to sucking and biting at Alex's lips. 

"Sir I get off almost every night thinking about your hands around my dick, fingering me open until I can't take it, fucking my throat. I need you, I need _something_ ,"  his gasps bordered on delirious, "if you won't do it, _I will._ " Washington swore, more breath than sound. 

Alex didn't wait for his approval, adjusting himself so that he could fumble with his zipper. Washington's breaths were labored, he was watching Alex's hands with a dark look, not stopping him. 

_This is filthy_ , Alex thought. He didn't care. The shame burned into arousal, boiling his blood and making him shake. He finally got the zipper down, pulling himself out of his boxers. He wrapped his hand gingerly around his erection, red, swollen, dripping with precum and fucked his hand down the shaft. He hissed at the sensation of his cock freed from his pants and looked up at Washington. 

Washington had one hand raised to cover his mouth, but his eyes said everything. They stayed trained on Alex's hand, following their movement along his cock. 

"Can you stay quiet?" Washington said behind his hand. Alex puffed a small whine, proving that he probably couldn't. 

The hand that Washington had covered his mouth with moved to gently cover the side of Alex's face, thumb pressed into his mouth running along his teeth. Alex rubbed his thumb along his slit, smearing precum around the head and gasping through pried open teeth. Washington groaned, shoved his thumb to press on the center of Alex's tongue and Alex wasted no time sucking around it. 

"God, I can't wait to feel that mouth on my cock. You take what you're given, don't you?" Washington's voice was feral and the resulting whine from Alex was embarrassingly loud, even through the thumb. Alex's free hand reached to paw at Washington's belt but he smacked it away, drawing Alex's wrist to his mouth and sucking on the tender skin there.

Alex quickened the pace of his hand, orgasm starting to pool in the pit of his stomach. Washington removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth before moving down to nip at Alex's neck right over his carotid artery, pulse hammering under his tongue. 

"You're so desperate to come it doesn't matter if you don't get what you want, huh?" A strained noise came from Alex, clearly trying to stay silent. "I know you want to climb in my lap and bounce on my dick but you seem perfectly content to just get yourself off. You're being so _kind_ , giving me a show like this, aren't you?"

"Sir, I'll do anything just please, fuck, please touch me, let me touch you, let me suck you off you _know_ I'll be good." 

"Alexander, _all_ I want today is to see you make a mess of yourself."

And he did. 

He threw his head back, mouth open in a silent scream and every muscle in his body tensed as his climax hit him. He spilled into his hand, dripping down to land on his clothed thigh. Washington looked like he was about to come apart, eyes eating Alex alive but not moving to touch him any more. He reached to the desk next to them and grabbed a tissue handing it to Alex.

"Clean yourself up and head home, Alexander. You did well."

The praise cut through the shame as Alex wiped off his hand. Washington began to walk toward his desk.

"Sir," he didn't stop walking, "thank you."

"For what? You did all of the work." They both laughed at that. 

"Don't you- Aren't you still-" Alex pressed. Washington paused, torn. Alex relished the effect he had on him. 

"I'll be fine. I have to finish responding to some emails. I'll see you tomorrow morning." 

The walk to his car was nice, the day was unexpectedly warmer than days before, amber sun beating warmly onto Alex's skin from its place low in the sky. The glow of his orgasm didn't subside until he got home, still reeling at what just happened. 

He packed most of his suitcase that night, showering early so he could take care of toiletries. The only thing he left out was his laptop and toothbrush, the rest packed neatly away. He fell asleep that night sated. 

The students were just as hellish the next day so he gave up trying to reign them in. If they didn't do the work their grades would reflect it, he had better things to do than babysit. The day went by quickly, he went home, finished packing and waited for Washington. 

Washington arrived, insisted on carrying his suitcase, and Alex got to admire the way the muscles in his back flexed.

"Washington, it has wheels for a reason." He only laughed in response, moving to carry it on his head. The gesture was ridiculous, Alex giggled affectionately. He wasn't sure he was ready to fall in love. Washington made it hard. 

The airport was packed, but the experience wasn't as nightmarish with Washington behind him, one hand wrapped around Alex's hip, the other pulling his suitcase. He kissed Alex chastely on the forehead before sending him on his flight. 

"Tell me when you get there. Have a safe flight."

Alex spent the flight anxiously bouncing his leg, staring at a blank laptop screen. He wanted to be excited about visiting his best friend but all he could focus on was the small ache in his chest at parting from Washington. 

He didn't have to fret long- the flight was smooth and fairly short. Virginia to South Carolina was only about a two hour flight. And soon enough he was off the plane, burdened with his luggage and excitedly scanning the mass of people for his best friend. 

"Alex!" He turned his head too fast, neck stiff from the flight, but didn't get the chance to regret it. In almost a split second he had dropped the handle of his suitcase and been spun around, tucked into the warmth of John's chest.

" _Aaaaalex!_ " John shouted, Alex heard more of it through his chest than through the air. 

"Hi, John," the smile plastered itself on Alex's face the moment he was attacked. 

He was released a bit, John still kept him at arms length to look into his eyes. Alex remembered John's green eyes fondly, the way freckles crept even onto his eyelids and creased when he smiled. They were watery. 

"Oh my god, are you crying?" The thought threatened to choke Alex up, too. 

"Shut up!" They both laughed, John picking up Alex's suitcase and leading him out of the Charleston airport to his car. 

John tried to catch Alex up on the protest situation at school, but Alex could only focus on the actual sound of his voice. He didn't know how badly he'd missed John until he'd seen him again. But _God_ he had a lot to say.

"So basically at this point they're making us write a timeline for any protest we want to do and turn it in with a list of participants, and if we even try we get shut down. Can you fucking believe it, Alex?" John looked down to see Alex typing something onto his phone. 

"Alex?"

"Yeah?" he responded, barely acknowledging the question. 

"Who are you texting?"

"Oh I'm just, it's not-" the embarrassment hit him. He'd ignored his best friend minutes after reuniting to text Washington. 

" _Oh my god._ Is it Washington? Are you two fucking yet? Actually don't tell me. Or. Yeah tell me."

"No!" Alex barked instinctively, "Well-"

John cut him off with a scream of fake disgust, laughing at the end of it. This far away from Virginia, Alex allowed himself to be as unabashed as he could for someone who had jacked off in his old teacher's lap the day before. 

They shoved Alex's suitcase into the small backseat of John's pickup and began the drive to John's house. Alex enjoyed the warmth of John's hand in his own over the console, but his mind was elsewhere. In fact, his mind was tucked neatly into Washington's lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- you're kind of welcome. it's probably not the smut you were expecting but the idea of Washington being completely hands off during this was too good to resist  
> 2-happy mothers day! i'm going to hell!! so are you  
> 3-expect slow/sporadic updates this week! i'm an artist before i am a writer and i'm having a gallery opening this week on thursday! i'm not sure how much free time i'll have/if i won't be crying during my free time  
> but anyways. follow my on twit @haalpine to see me&my art/see if i'm dead or not/see if im WRITING or not and as always, i love ur comments!! u guys make me laugh, you make my cry, you make me want to keep writing  
> (PS I HIT 1,000 hits!! that's pretty cool!! im also almost at 100 kudos!! let's Do This)


	7. A Holiday Away

Charleston was beautiful compared to the outskirts of D.C., for all Alex claimed to hate the south, he found the charm of the city irresistible. John indulged him by driving past landmarks, making the trip back to his house a full hour longer than it had to be, and the two talked about hypotheticals. About what their futures may hold not in terms of careers but in terms of what color siding they wanted on their house, the style of windows, what trees. John was very specifically fond of bead board walls and dark hardwood floors, Alexander was more partial to terra cotta tiles plain white walls littered with potted plants and pictures. Each time Alex moved his hand to point at something, he instinctively moved it back to meet John's. 

"Alright, you're tired, we're going home," John smiled, voice warmly filling the cabin of the truck over the music they had gently playing. Alex pouted dramatically, throwing his head back to hit the seat. 

Alex missed this, missed being with his best friend, missed feeling safe and warm. But something was missing. 

"John, how are you? Like _really._ "

"I'm exhausted, Alex." The phrase spoke less to his exhaustion than the way he said it, voice scratching its way out. "The work is just as hard as it's always been, but now everything is more of an uphill battle _because_ of the hard work I put in to speaking up. These kids, the freshmen, depend on me to lead, depend on me to stay motivated, to stay _angry_. Being angry takes a lot of energy." The silence hung, suspended in the thick heat of the cabin. 

"It's good. It's giving me an opportunity to write myself into history." Alex was relieved. John didn't often see the bright side, but he knew it was there and he'd claw at the edges of the issue to reveal it. He'd never back down from a fight. The two twisted the conversation and cracked jokes about how one day John would probably be interviewed on late night television about his book, about a speech, about whatever he'd end up doing. John had to smack at Alex's arm when he was laughing so hard he couldn't see to drive after Alex had tried to do impersonations of the ladies on _The View._ He only got to do Whoopie Golberg before John had to protest through tears- "you _know_ I can't stand her," his admonishment didn't have a fighting chance to cut through his heaving laughter. Alex couldn't make it through a single line in her scratchy drawl without spoiling it with his own hilarity.

They exited off of the interstate, pulling onto a road that was an expensive imitation of rural- green grass and manicured trees lined the streets, department stores with neatly paved parking lots and white cobbled sidewalks racked up neatly on either side. The road they pulled onto could hardly be called a neighborhood, each house separated by at least an acre of land, fenced in by shrubs. The houses closer to the main road stacked taller than the trees that grew in front of them-new development. But after about ten minutes of the gently winding road, John pulled off onto a white brick road, through the open wrought iron gate that always made Alex a little sick to his stomach. John's displeasure wasn't at the blatant display of his own family's wealth, but at the man who was sitting on the wicker swing that hung from the porch awning that came into view after they turned around a huge oak tree and trimmed shrubs. The grass wasn't dead yet, at least in John's yard. But the Laurens family was one that _paid_ for grass. Alex squeezed John's hand one last time before he knew he'd have to remove it lest he have to sit back while Henry Laurens scrutinized his son's flamboyance. The sun was far below the horizon at this point, flat purple light subdued the greens of the earth while neutralizing the yellows entirely- the entirety of the local Earth seemed to be struggling to keep awake for as long as it could before night swept in. John parked out of the way of the garage doors and cut the ignition, giving Alex a concerned glance. Alex had met Henry Laurens when he had visited Charleston the first time, he had hardly spared Alex a word. In fact, it seemed to surprise John that he was even home before the sun went down that night. 

"Alexander! It's so wonderful to see you both, please, let me help you with your bags." The gesture was kind enough, but Alex knew better than to trust an elected official. He'd never known one to be genuine, acting only to further their own motive- the public sector was a slippery business. 

John took his suitcase quicker than Mr. Laurens could help and exchanged pleasantries before leading Alex up the hardwood staircase that fanned out at the bottom in front of a mosaic medallion centered in the tiled foyer. John heaved the suitcase into his arms, careful not to damage the wood of the stairs and Alex followed. Guest room. 

"I'm not staying with you?"

"I didn't get a chance to really mention it, Dad's suspicious of us. You can still sneak into my room if you're _dying_ to snuggle, Hamilton." They laughed, Alex snorted a "maybe" and he began to unpack, setting out his laptop, pajamas and toiletries. It was only about 8:30 and the flight was within the same time-zone, but he was tired. He was torn between wanting to curl into John's warmth like they had gotten into the habit of and the thought that _maybe that should stop if I'm having feelings for someone else._

John was perched on the edge of the queen sized bed, looking down at his phone. 

"John?" He looked up, eyebrows raised in pleased expectation. He pressed his lips shut a bit, signaling Alex to speak again. 

"I think I might be in love?"

The pleasant expression on John's face drained away in an instant, eyes widening and beginning to dart around, looking at Alex feature by feature in an attempt to evade his eyes. 

"Alex, look, I know our relationship is close but I'm not so sure-" realization hit Alex like the slap of a cold, ocean wave. 

"No! Oh my god, no, I'm sorry I didn't mean. I meant," Alex's rush to reassure John had forced him to confront the truth quicker than he would've liked. "Washington. With Washington." The relief that blanketed back over John's face contorted into something, a semblance of something not far from concern. 

"Alex, he's, what, in his forties? You're twenty one. He used to be your teacher I don't understand how you could... _Feel_ that way. Isn't it weird?" 

"The only weird thing about it is trying to forget that seventeen year old me spent more time thinking about his dick than studying for his class," the massive effort it took John to conceal a laugh was only enough for him to screw his mouth up, "but it's different now?"

"Alex, just because he can actually fuck you now doesn't mean he isn't taking advantage of you still. You're still young, _hell_ , you're still a student Alex. And even if you aren't, isn't he kinda your boss?" 

Alex bit out a laugh, trying not to let frustration turn into anger. John understood his hotheadedness but he didn't need to argue right after they reunited. 

"Not my boss. Coworker."

"But-"

"Look, forget I said anything."

"Alex, come on," John was doing the same thing he always did, trying to get Alex to finish what he started. 

"John, I'm still not even sure _what_ I feel. I don't want to complicate it actually, let's just enjoy Thanksgiving." John knew better than to press the issue, patting Alex's thigh before exiting the room. 

At 11:14, Alex tiptoed to John's bedroom where he was immediately scooped into John's arms, falling asleep with the rhythm of his slow breaths.

Wednesday was a busy day, Alex was dragged first to Target where he had to look away from the register to avoid seeing how much John spent on candles and wreaths and festive party decorations. Next was some upscale grocery store with a painfully generic name, _fresh_ something, where they bought a disturbing amount of vegetables and breads and pie fillings. 

"John how many people are coming?" 

"I forget, dad invited his interns and office buddies. Plus our extended family. A lot."

Next they hit Michaels. "Why are we here?"

"Crafts! For the kids!" As they were leaving with bags of popsicle sticks and scented pinecones and glitter and ribbon, John admitted- "okay so the youngest person coming is thirteen but don't tell me you're not excited for pinecone turkeys."

They settled into their seats as Alex spoke. 

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not excited for pine-" the rest of his statement was muffled by John's hand and John's shouting. 

From about noon to four, Alex and John, with the help of a few gracious cousins, prepared a majority of the side dishes for the next day. The sheer mass of the kitchen made the task easy enough that hearing John's family's extremely conservative talk was only enough to _barely_ piss him off. It was hard to get furious when the whole house smelled like toasted pecans and cinnamon. At four, two things happened. 

Firstly, the entirety of the Laurens family began to panic, Henry Laurens pulling into the driveway. 

"Do you think Dad's gonna make us take pictures?" Martha groaned.

"If the person behind him in the Subaru is his favorite photographer like I think it is, then yes."

"Jack, you have to stage a disaster. Kill me and Mary and blame Alex." Alex scoffed, midway between a laugh and actual offense. Their collective dread was amplified when Henry emerged in the doorway with three Dillard's bags. 

"Get changed and meet me outside in ten minutes," he said. His cheer was through a bitten smile, a threatening mockery of happiness. 

Secondly, he got a text from Washington. 

_from G. Washington:_

_Are you busy?_

Alex looked up to see John mouthing "sorry", then returned to his phone. 

_to G. Washington:_

_I'll be free in a minute_

He made his way up the stairs, situating himself against a mound of pillows and opening his laptop. 

_from G. Washington:_

_Call me when you're available._

Alex leaned to dig into his suitcase, looking for his headphones so that he could still type while he was on the phone. He found them, plugged them in and pressed the call button. The line rang three times before Washington picked up- the nervous clench of his stomach was the same as if he had been in the room with him. Alex greeted him and received a "hello" in return. 

"How was your day, sir? It was short, right?"

_"It was, I let the kids watch a documentary instead of classwork. There was no way they'd cooperate."_

"Did you make them do a worksheet?"

" _Of course,"_ he said it like the opposite was a ridiculous assertion. Alex laughed out a groan. "Mr. Washington, you're the 

_wooooorst_!" Washington laughed. 

_"What are you doing right now?"_

"I was catching up on the news, I've been busy since I got here."

_"You're alone, right?"_

"Yes?"

_"Can I distract you for a moment?"_ Alex willed his heart to slow down at those words. There was a chance he had something serious to talk about. "I suppose you could."

_"So let's talk about Monday,"_ so it was _technically_ work related, _"you shared with me some... fantasies that you've had."_ Alex swallowed thickly, closing his laptop and standing up to lock the door. 

"I did."

_"It would seem,"_ he heard Washington pause to adjust and sat back on the bed, _"that we have some similar interests."_ Heat pooled in Alex's crotch. 

"Such as what, sir?"

_"You tell me."_ It came out like an order, as so many of Washington's words seemed to. 

"Oh, you mean like how I said I wanted you to fuck me with your fingers?" The words burned at Alex's face as he said them. "About how I have to use three of my own fingers to get close to what two of yours are? I haven't been able to stretch myself as wide as I bet your cock is yet, but I've been dying to."

_"I bet you'd look so pretty around my cock, Alexander. Begging for me to fuck you."_ The words registered deep, pitch ragged. Alex couldn't help but roll his hips into the mattress as he pictured the way Washington's eyes went dark. 

"Sir, can I-" Alex couldn't bring himself to finish the words, nervous breath shaking through him.

_"Can you what? You have to tell me what you need."_

"Can I touch myself? Sir?" The line went quiet for a moment, Alex began to panic. 

_"You didn't ask on Monday. What's with the sudden change of heart?"_

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself you were right there and you were so _hot_ I couldn't help it and then you kept _talking_. You have no idea what your voice does to me, sir."

_"I wish I hadn't sent you home, Alexander. I couldn't stop thinking about fucking your pretty mouth open. I never got those emails sent."_ Alex's hips bucked involuntarily at the way Washington's voice seemed to grate its way out of his chest. It sounded like he had been working a hand over himself the way his breath became uneven whenever he stopped talking. It was all very subtle, but Alex had spent a long time studying the way he talked.

"Please," Alex keened, barely above a whisper. 

_"Go ahead, but make your hips do the work, not your hand, baby."_ He couldn't suppress a surprised whine at the instruction, hastily unbuttoning his pants and shoving them off. 

_"I bet you're already so hard for me, Alexander. I bet you're hot all over, desperate to be touched, huh?"_ Alex thrusted shallowly into his palm, trying to rut against himself like Washington asked without making a mess of the bed. 

"Yes, _oh God_ , yes, sir I wish this was your hand, your thigh, anything. You'd have to punish me for making a mess on you, have me clean up with my mouth." He was rewarded with a contented hum. 

_"We could do that. I could suck a bruise onto your neck that you wouldn't be able to hide. Mark you up."_

"S'hardly a punishment, sir. I want you to claim me, cover me in bite marks and scratches," Alex keened with the lack of stimulation his open palm gave him, grinding now at an angle that touched the head of his dick to press against his stomach. He took his sweater off, removing one earbud at a time before putting them back in so that he couldn't miss anything Washington said. 

_"I bet you like being spanked, don't you? You'd be right at home sprawled over my desk. I bet you'd beg for it."_ Alex breathed an embarrassingly high pitched moan, dick twitching at the idea of Washington's hands, _huge_ hands, smacking him until he was red and raw and crying. 

"Fuck, sir I'm, please-"

_"Oh but you'd take it without complaint like a good boy, and I'd eat your pretty little ass out until you came untouched."_ Alex gasped. 

"Washington I need you inside me, please, I want you to fuck me apart. Into a wall, onto the floor, anything I just need, _fuck_ , inside, please please sir." Alex used one hand to graze past his asshole but didn't dare do anything without permission.

_"Why don't you fuck yourself on your fingers for me, Alex. Take me through your normal routine."_ Quicker than Washington could growl out the words Alex had three fingers in his mouth, wetting them until drool ran past his lip and down his chin. He pressed his middle finger to nudge at his entrance, other two spreading it taut. Washington sighed from the other side of the line. 

"I'm-" he pushed the finger past the first ring of muscle, choking off the words he was trying to form, "shit, I've got one finger in, I'm so tight, I'd feel so good for you sir please, please fuck me when I get home please." 

_"Baby I'm sure you're tight, you'd take my fingers so easily I bet, not waiting for me to fuck you before you fuck yourself onto my hand."_ Alex sputtered, pushing in a second finger, breathing through his nose in an attempt to relax the muscles in his ass, relieve some of the resistance. He was so on edge when he was by himself, but he knew he could trust Washington to fuck him into a boneless mess. 

"Fuck, sir, Washington I'm close I can't hold it, not with your voice, please just talk to me," Alex whined, hips bucking up into one hand that encircled his dick, the other earnestly pumping his first two fingers into his ass. 

_"Next time I see you I'm not going to be able to help myself. Ever since I saw you come that first time it's all I want to see. I want to see you freeze up and fall apart, come so hard you see stars, keep fucking into you until your eyes roll and you can't handle it anymore and you won't be able to walk straight or sit for a week. And you'd be so good, so tight for me, so obedient, a good boy."_

"God, I'm gonna come, I'm close I-" Alex sucked in a breath and held it, fingers thrusting in time with the fist around his dick. 

_"Come for me, baby, let me hear you,"_ Washington's own voice sounded desperate, breathlessness creeping into the intimidating growl. Alexander released the breath he'd held with a choked shout, clenching hard onto his fingers and coming hot into his hand. While he was catching his breath he heard Washington snarl, heart tightening at the thought of what his face might look like, what his dick might look like. 

Alexander was still out of breath when he fell back on the pillows, wiping his hands off on the boxers that he'd kept on the bed. He rolled his head to the side and put a hand on his chest, marveling in the thud of his heart through his bones and the buzz that ran with it. 

Alex mumbled, voice detached from his brain, _"love you,"_ and got silence other than his pulse. 

_Wait shit did I just fucking tell him I loved him oh fuck fuck, no._

His heart couldn't help but push hot blood through his body, but his stomach went cold, dropped like a lead weight. He heard an inhale from Washington's end and cringed, fearing both denial and acceptance. 

_"You did so well for me, Alexander."_

"Sir I didn't mean to say-"

_"Don't mention it. Enjoy the rest of your evening."_

He hung up. Alex was more lost than he'd been that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the outline of this fic is secretly just a laundry list of all of my kinks, phone sex destroys me (i hope it destroys you too)  
> SO i'm sorry for making you all read about john and alex going to target, i'm weak for those two....  
> also, maybe you CAN expect normal-ish updates this week because i'm so stressed about my show i can't sleep rip!! i'm okay i promise! there's just a lot of stuff to do  
> um! i updated like my icon and my bio on here finally (i didn't know that was even a thing)  
> AS ALWAYS your comments are v. much appreciated (i'm trying to start replying to them all!) and we hit 100 kudos (actually 120 something) and 1500 hits!! holy shit!! tell your friends! tell your friends to tell THEIR friends!! anyways, love y'all, scream at me on twit (@haalpine), see you with a Much Awaited gwash pov next chapter ;~)


	8. Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington's point of view.

October threatened to close out uneventfully, this school year proving to be as nondescript as the last one. He had his fair share of students that he liked and a few he disliked, but none were incredibly unique or passionate about history. It didn't stop him from devoting himself to his teaching, but the hours seemed longer when the students had so little energy. 

The main problem he'd had this year was with disrespect. The kids grew more and more vulgar with every passing year, something he'd originally supposed to be him getting old but, to many teachers' admissions, was a true trend. 

He hadn't been impressed with any students since one in particular. One who worked the hardest, talked the longest, treated him with the utmost respect even when he vehemently disagreed with something he said. The one with the slight frame that he squared his shoulders to hide, the shoulder length black hair that settled into a gentle wave past his chin, the softly hooked nose and the glittering black eyes. The one that chewed the tip of his pen while looking at him through dark lashes, who leaned forward in his desk to jut out his backside and subtly elongate the curve of his back, who made it a point to walk by his classroom at least four times a day. 

Washington had a hard time forgetting Alexander Hamilton.

Not that he _should_ , teachers often keep in touch with their former students, eager to know how their studies were going and how their adult lives were beginning to pan out. Washington desperately wished that his interest only reached to his academic success. Instead, he wondered if he was dating anyone, if he'd been fucking anyone. 

It had been almost three years since Hamilton had even had his class, but the thought of him still made his bed unbearably cold. He tucked away those thoughts most days, slowly moving on with his life, until one day he showed up in his doorway. 

"Alexander!" he'd exclaimed, his heart wrenched at the sight of him. His face had thinned out a bit, he'd had the traces of black facial hair trimmed that morning around his mouth, his hair was tied back into a neat bun. He may have grown an inch or two since he last saw him, but he could hardly note his height when he looked at his eyes. Still a warm black, still sparkling, still set into his face and underlined with dark circles. 

_Don't touch him._

Washington stopped himself mid stride to perch on a desk. He studied Alexander's face as he seemed to take in the familiarity of the room. His eyes were wide, he seemed to shake nervously, his face seemed flushed. Washington was speechless. 

"How have you been, sir?" Washington's stomach flipped. _Sir._

" _Please,_ call me anything but sir," his impenetrable air of professionalism masked the lust that stirred in him at the use of the honorific. After all this time, Alexander still saw him as a figure of authority. 

"Just call me Washington if you have to."

"Oh, sure, sir." His chest seemed to flood, he was drowning in an odd and pleasant warmth. 

_Say something._

"It's quite alright," he mumbled. 

 _No, say something that prompts conversation._  

His brain was split in two, wanting to bask in the silent warmth that Alexander's impromptu presence brought about, the other wanting him to seem like he was an actual adult who could form coherent sentences. Most of the surprise of Alexander's visit came from the fact that he was supposed to be away at Columbia on scholarship. 

"I'm doing fine myself, but I'm more interested in how you're doing. You're a junior now, right?" The question seemed to catch Alexander in an uncomfortable spot. 

"Uh, well, sort of? I'm taking a short break," he began to fidget, concern bled into the edges of Washington's stomach.

"And why is that?"

"Finances. I'll be transferring to a different school soon, closer to here."

Washington absolutely loathed the relief that the words brought. 

_Offer consolation._

"Two years at Columbia is still a remarkable feat, Alexander."

He breathed a thanks and let his eyes wander the room again, stopping to settle on his hands. Washington tested the waters. He flexed his fingers and Alexander's eyes darted away as quick as they came. 

_Make him stay._

There was a job opening. He inhaled deeply in preparation to speak, but cut himself short, unsure of how exactly to word it. 

"Sir?" Of course he would notice. The room was silent. Washington hadn't been nervous from the time he entered college all the way through his adult life until Alexander walked into it. 

"Alexander, I don't wish to sound presumptuous by any means, but are you currently unemployed?" Alexander cringed, a nervous smile playing on his pink lips. 

"I am," the nerves bubbled up into a laugh with his eyebrows pinched, he tucked some hair behind his ear, "currently unemployed."

Washington could read the panic that flashed across his face, saw him practically squirm with embarrassment. 

"I ask not just because I care you know," Alex pulled out a chair, arm shaking as he did. Pity flashed through Washington a moment before something more predatory did, Alex at about crotch level even if he was a few feet away. 

"I ask because there is a job here that you may be interested in."

"What is it, sir?" 

"Mr. Greene, sorry, _Nathaniel_ , is going to be traveling to Georgia to handle some family matters. He won't say it to anyone, but he runs a tight ship in his class and the thought of having his materials passed from substitute to substitute is putting a great deal of stress on his shoulders." 

"Is everything okay?" 

Washington explained the situation with more detail than he had given the other substitute, telling Alexander about the horrible fill-in Gates. 

"He's..."

"A disaster?" Alexander grinned, more lighthearted than before. Washington had to tear his eyes away from his lips before he may have noticed. 

"That's certainly one way to put it. But, Alexander, would you be willing to consider working here temporarily? The pay isn't great but it's a job where you can employ your talents. I'd hate to hear of you wasting away in an administrative job if I knew there was an opportunity like this here." 

He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth as he seemed to consider the offer. His eyes traced along the floor while Washington focused on making himself absolutely still. 

" _Alex,_ " he had resulted to pleading. Washington knew very well of Alexander's adoration of him since the onset of their time together. He'd defended him to his classmates, always touting about Washington's knowledge and capability and command over his classroom. The boy had always been wrapped around his finger, something Washington could bend and break with ease if he so wished. So again Washington tested. 

"I could really use a hand here."

Alexander looked at him with stars in his eyes, seemingly astounded by the amount of responsibility Washington wanted to entrust to him. The moment of deliberation was short this time. 

"Yes."

Washington worked best with a plan of action, his natural leadership taking over when the task was clear. Talk to Adams, have Alexander sign paperwork, smile at Abigail, hand over Greene's class materials and then send Alexander home. He'd turned his back to Alexander to arrange the obscenely large stack of binders and quickly scratched his personal phone number onto a note. When he spun around, binders in tow, Alexander's expression wasn't the same anxious smile as before. He looked distracted, he looked at Washington everywhere, he was sizing him up. And when Washington cleared his throat, he looked like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. 

Before they parted, Washington decided it best to leave him with something to think about. The gentle brush of his knuckles encouraged a flash of heat under his touch. Strangely enough, Alexander hadn't flinched, hadn't pulled away- he only brought his eyes to meet Washington's. Even with the leverage he had in the situation, every time Alexander looked him in the eyes he seemed to lose his footing. 

"Have a good weekend. My email and phone number is written down inside the top binder."

"Uh, sure, yeah," the surprise that hadn't shown with his body was ever too apparent in his voice, ragged. "See you Monday."

And so it began. 

On Alexander's first day, Washington bought him some spiced drink, remembering how he hated the cold. The nerves showed themselves clearly in Alexander's demeanor, his first slip up at not preparing for one of his classes seemed to push him closer to the edge. Something stirred in Washington, an unusual desire to protect, to comfort, to assist. These were all unspoken roles that he took on as a teacher, things he did without complaint, but with Alexander it was stronger. 

He introduced his first class to him, he checked in between classes, and they took their lunch together. 

He'd asked Alexander if he'd had any admirers, gotten an embarrassed dodge, and took the opportunity to make a move. 

"I don't. I don't think so? I don't know, how can you- how do you even _know_?" 

"It depends. Sometimes it's just staring. Sometimes they get nervous, or stick around a bit longer than everyone after class, employ a more respectful decorum; anything to make themselves look like a model student." Alex blinked, refusing to meet Washington's gaze. 

"Do you have any students like that this year?"

Washington almost spelled everything out then, but calculated for a moment before answering. He didn't want to scare Alexander away, fearing that if he let on his knowledge of his admiration that he'd run. He also didn't want to have to chase after to tell him that the feeling was mutual. He settled to tease. 

"Just one." 

"Really?" 

The bell rang, Washington walked Alexander back into his classroom. He'd made a habit of touching him casually whenever he'd gotten the chance, loving the way Alexander jumped first at the contact but eased into it as if it was as natural as his own heartbeat. 

For a while, the two spoke casually between classes, Alexander letting himself in during lunch breaks, catching up with him after school. Alexander loved to talk, Washington didn't mind. He took those moments to soak in every detail about the boy he could, the crease of the bags under his eyes, the roundness of his teeth and the way they were set into his gums, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he'd try to tuck hair behind his ears even if none was loose. And he had gotten progressively more unabashed with his staring, content to settle on his lips, his neck, his chest, his waist. Alexander stared right back- he'd been caught up on Washington's hands, the spread of his chest, the strength of his jaw. 

On his second Monday, Alex didn't invite himself over like usual. On his way out of his classroom he paused at the door, Alexander was on the phone right by his own door. There was an intimate fondness that saturated the first sentence Washington heard.

_"Sleeping alone is hard."_

What happened next surprised Washington, and he would be embarrassed if not for the outcome. He let himself in, closed the door and nearly backed Alex into the wall. He'd lied, saying he thought Alex had been interested in women, wasn't surprised to learn about his bisexuality but almost cast the conversation to the side in favor of admiring the view of Alexander nearly pressed against the wall, face flushed. He'd acted possessively and hated himself for it, but couldn't  _resist_ when he had so much to go on to believe that he  _could._

"Do you remember when you asked if I had any students who admired me the other week?" Alex nodded, Washington let the control slip a bit. 

"And do you remember when I told you that I could tell when one did?" 

He had Alexander fully pinned, he could feel the heat radiating off of him, could feel him tremble between himself and the wall. He wanted it just as bad. 

"Sir, I don't understand what you're trying-" He cut himself off, finally looking straight into his eyes. He looked trapped, he looked vulnerable, he was right under Washington's thumb. It was the gaze that tore the last of the control Washington had out of his hands. He maneuvered Alex's face to the side with his hand and brought his face to just barely nuzzle into his neck. This close, he could smell the fragrance of his hair, stronger with his heat. 

"I think we both know who that student is," he was teetering on the edge,  knowing that at any moment they could be caught, knowing that he couldn't do much in the middle of the day.

"Was it me sir?" 

He raised his hand on instinct, initially intending to cup his face and kiss him, but stopped at his chest. His heart was hammering hard enough to be felt through his chest, through his shirt. The position was awkward, but the discomfort in his neck was drowned out with every breath Alexander gasped in. 

"Your heart is beating so _fast_ , Alexander." It took everything he had not to sink his teeth into the soft heat of Alex's neck, grind his thigh into the erection that he was very clearly inconvenienced by. He put pressure on Alexander's cheeks to pry his mouth open and heard a knock on the door. 

He knew it could happen. He knew that it _would_ happen. 

So they talked to Jefferson. And while Alexander and Jefferson got acquainted, Washington mostly watched. And he noticed how Jefferson looked at Alex, with 

heavy eyes and a permanently affixed smile that bared his canines. Predatory. Flirtatious.  

It stirred up something deeper inside Washington than the lust that he was _almost_ accommodated to. 

Every moment he wasn't teaching he was replaying that moment with Alexander in his head, cursing himself for the jealousy that came from Jefferson's looks at him, imagining Alexander on his knees, buried in his crotch. 

An opportunity presented itself on Friday. Washington asked Alexander to accompany him to the orchestra concert, he'd accepted with a poor imitation of hesitation. The look he'd gotten through Alex's dark lashes were enough to make him repeat himself in his distraction. 

The concert was pleasant enough, the incubative warmth and the near pitch black of the theatre drove him to boldness, placing a hand on Alexander's thigh. In return he hadn't gotten the look he'd expected, the jump he'd expected, but a pause. And then he got a smaller hand on top of his, exploring their difference in size, admiring the masculine width of Washington's hand beneath his own. They intertwined their fingers and set their arms on top of the armrest. The orchestra was long shadowed by the way the affection dripped into his veins like morphine, like he was indisposed and Alexander was keeping him alive.

When Alexander slumped a bit in his seat and nuzzled his face into his shoulder his heart skipped. He could faintly smell something deep and sweet, intoxicating, and he breathed it in like he'd never get the chance to breathe again. Everything about Alexander made it feel like Washington was hurtling forward, like every moment could be their last together, like he'd have to soak it all in before he moved onto bigger things, to different people and a better future. 

The ride home was tense, Alexander talked to fill silence but dropped off often, said he was tired. Hot air blew through the vents; Washington was more fond of the cold but knew that Alexander hated it. But even the heat couldn't block out the chill that pervaded the passenger side of the vehicle. 

They arrived at his apartment, Washington walked him up to his door when he spun around. 

"Sir?" 

"Yes, Alexander?" 

"What are we doing? Us? I'm all for flirting but I need to know if-" The same nerves returned, the sensation becoming more familiar. A freezing breeze hit the external wall of the stairwell, whistling through the cracks in the door and through the stairs. The dull light could only conceal so much of Alexander's anxiety, he licked his lips before he regained his composure.

"I need to know if this is...if this is anything." 

Vulnerability was a virtue without a value, and Alexander might as well have handed him the keys to an art museum. The rest came naturally, threading his fingers through Alex's, pressing him back against the door, finally able to kiss him without eyes on him, without doubt clouding him. 

Alex's lips were as soft as he'd imagined, his body vibrated underneath Washington with what could've been either anticipation or lust. Alex didn't submit long, pressing desperately back, parting his lips to exhale then diving back in. They parted as though they were bound in elastic- backing away with much resistance before snapping back together. 

The way Alexander pulled him back to the door immediately flushed warmth to Washington's face, pushed through his body and made his cock twitch with need. A tongue pushed at his lips between eager bites at his bottom lip.

And then he lost the control that had been slipping from his grasp all evening long, the pleas from Alexander were clear enough in their silence. Alexander didn't put up a fight, mouth desperately welcoming the shove of Washington's tongue. His head swam with adrenaline, the obscene slick of Alexander's mouth was just as he thought it would be, and the mewls that he earned were just as provocative. He pushed Alex's chest to have him flush against the door, he jumped at the cold but quickly turned his head to further accommodate the kiss. They broke again, Washington moved to trail kisses down to the pulse point where his jaw met his neck. The scent from earlier, though subtle, flooded into his nose and crackled a sweet burn in between his lungs. 

"That smell was _you_." Alex breathlessly lolled his head to the side, bearing the length of his neck and Washington bathed him in kisses. And then there were hands at his waist, and then Alex was on his tiptoes to grind his crotch into Washington's and he froze, a growl ripping through his abdomen. 

He ripped himself away, sense flooding into him all at once. 

_You can't fuck him, he's your student, he still sees you as his teacher, this breaches every moral you have. Leave before you can't._

"Please come inside," he was breathless, his lips were swollen and his eyes were wide with the thirst that had seized him, and both of them were stiffly constrained in their own clothes. 

"I think I should go."

"Please, sir, I need-"

"You need to take care of something. I'll leave you to it. Good night Alexander."

He sped home with his windows down, praying for the heat that soaked him with want would cool down, praying for his erection to go away. He tried to divert his attention, tried to think about the administrative work he had waiting on his desk, about the permission slips he had to sign by Monday afternoon. But the relief never came, he dropped his bags on the floor and cursed as he stepped into the near-scalding spray of his shower and braced himself with an arm against the wall, hand wrapping around his swollen cock. The image of Alexander bobbing his head, spit-glistening lips wrapped around his dick looking up at him with that same heavy lidded stare and the muffled mewls sent him tumbling over the edge, hot come trickling down the wall of his shower.

The weekend was long, and Washington was alone to sort out the mess of his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY SHOW WENT REALLY WELL I got a lot of flowers and ate a ton of food and didn't die!!  
> anyways, sorry for the delay! i've been really busy!  
> sorry if this comes off as choppy, i wrote it bits and pieces at a time and it took like extra long because i had to copy and paste previous dialogue instead of just locking in and writing for long stretches of time  
> next chapter: more thirst, more on jefferson, more on hamilton being oblivious to how beautiful he is  
> ANYWAYS comments are REALLY COOL! and we're almost at 2,000 hits!!


	9. Miles Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington's point of view part two

The following Monday felt like Washington's first day back at work after an extended holiday. Nerves had been talked out of him, replaced with an incredibly rehearsed sense of preparedness. 

The week was short, only two and a half days, to accommodate for Thanksgiving. He had no work to do, but he opened his laptop to look busy regardless. It wasn't until the final bell rang and the building had almost entirely cleared that Alexander found himself in Washington's door.

He didn't look up from his laptop, he was actually responding to a mass email sent out a few minutes before about the early release schedule on Wednesday. 

"Sir?"

He relented. 

"Alexander, how was your weekend?" 

"It was fine. I won't be here Wednesday, I have a flight to South Carolina tomorrow evening." The answer came rushed. He had rehearsed, too. 

There was a conversation that needed to happen, one that required discretion, so Washington made it so- hallway clear, door closed and locked, Alexander tucked neatly into the corner, perched on a desk. 

The sunset was filtered through a thick blanket of cumulous clouds, casting the classroom in an orange haze. 

"Let me give you a ride to the airport." 

"Sir I can't ask you to do that."

"You don't have to ask. I'm offering." 

A pattern was established like this- Washington would propose something and wait for Alexander to deliberate a moment. The moments of silence before his answers always picked at his skin, anticipation testing his previously impeccable patience. 

"Sure. My flight leaves at five, we should get there an hour early."  

The consideration tugged Washington closer, the warmth of the thought paired nicely with the warmth of Alex's body. 

"Are you ready for your flight?" The words were whispered, their faces were less than a foot away from each other. 

"No." 

Washington trained his eyes on Hamilton's lips, slightly open, slightly chapped. 

"What do you need?" 

The second Washington's hands were on his thighs, the answer was clear. Alex needed _more._  

So Washington stood, rubbing gentle circles into the sensitive skin of his legs until Alex pressed a kiss, gentle and inquisitive, to his mouth. It demanded little, only that it be reciprocated. And it was sweet. And it ended too quickly. 

"I need answers." 

The blanket of warmth that had wrapped itself around Washington's heart had slipped off, leaving him unguarded. He'd have to be vulnerable, too. 

"Alright." He swallowed, it was probably undetectable. 

"Why did you leave on Friday?" 

_Lie._

"Alexander, I've been teaching for a long time. Students having feelings for teachers isn't at all unusual, _you_ know that. I always write off these students because I have to. It's my job. I see my students as my own children." 

He ignored his conscience, there was no point in not telling the truth. But this was him putting all of his cards on the table and he couldn't stop himself after he'd started.

His heart beat faster, like he was giving his first presentation in college, like he was turning in his thesis, like he was delivering a speech to an audience larger than thirty students.

"But you're different. Not just now, you've _always_ been different." The words prompted Alexander to look back into his eyes, further chipping at his confidence, at his constraint.

"Alex, when I caught on to your crush I was worried. I tried for months to talk myself out of having any sort of attraction for you, but every day I'd step out into that hallway and you'd be there. I can't place what it is about you that stops me dead in my tracks. I was ashamed of myself, you were _seventeen_ , Alexander." 

The room was silent as he paused. His shame dripped from his words and stayed suspended in the thick heat between them. 

"But now you're not my student. You're not a child. You're right here where I can finally have you like I've always wanted you."

_You've probably scared him. You should leave._  

"Sir you can have me, please, I'm here and I've wanted it for so long please, God, you're all I need just-" 

"Alex." Washington cut him off by granting him some reprieve, pulling him by his hips to be flush against his half-hard cock. This was a mistake in the making, and Washington knew it, and he knew he'd make it again and again after this. 

"You'll get what you want soon enough, son." 

And then his mouth was on Alexander's and he was slipping and he was drunk and he slid his tongue into his mouth like it belonged there and Alex moaned into it and he was _gone._  

"Sir, _please,_ " Alex was begging and Washington wanted nothing more than to flip him onto his stomach and snag his pants off and make him scream, make him squirm. 

"Sir I get off almost every night thinking about your hands around my dick, fingering me open until I can't take it, fucking my throat. I need you, I need _something,_ "  each word went straight to Washington's dick, "if you won't do it, _I will._ " 

He was torn between wanting to memorize every square inch of his body, watch him come apart under Washington's hands, watch him do everything he promised he'd gotten off on and sitting back and seeing what _"I will"_ meant. 

He didn't have to wait for long, Alex unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out of his boxers and Washington felt dizzy with the idea of it all. He couldn't help but stare, Alexander's cock was proportionate with the rest of him, flushed red and dripping with precum. He had to bring a hand to his face to try and hide his mouth, embarrassed by how aroused he was at the idea of this. It would be so easy to just lower a hand, sink to his knees and let Alex lay back and feel it fully. But he'd wait. He was patient.

"Can you stay quiet?" The raggedness of his own voice surprised him and made Alex twitch and tense and he peeped out a whine in desperation. Without thinking, Washington brought his hand to Alex's face, something gentle and supportive, encouraging and admiring- he snaked his thumb between his teeth to bring himself back. Alex's hand was stroking his cock slowly, exercising a massive amount of restraint. When Alex thumbed over the head of his prick, running through the mess of precum already there, he gasped through open teeth. 

_You'll get caught if he's loud._

So he pressed his thumb into the center of his tongue and Alex caught on remarkably quick. The way Alex twisted his head and rolled the back of his tongue over his thick thumb made Washington unwillingly cant his hips, careful not to actually rub into anything.

"God, I can't wait to feel that mouth on my cock. You take what you're given, don't you?" His voice felt a million miles away, the chains he had bound himself in made him feel like a spectator, a thousand yards away. The whine around his thumb and the quickened pace of Alexander's thrusts brought him a little closer. 

_He likes it when you talk._

Alex tried weakly to nudge at Washington's belt, he seized his hand and sucked at the thin skin of his wrist, careful not to leave a mark. The thrusts came even faster, Washington withdrew his thumb and kissed Alex again, eliciting a whimper, more breath than sound. He moved again to mouth at his neck, planting a soft bite with a lot of promise. 

"You're so desperate to come it doesn't matter if you don't get what you want, huh?" A strained noise came from Alex, clearly trying to stay silent. "I know you want to climb in my lap and bounce on my dick but you seem perfectly content to just get yourself off. You're being so _kind_ , giving me a show like this, aren't you?"

"Sir, I'll do anything just please, _fuck,_ please touch me, let me touch you, let me suck you off you _know_ I'll be good." 

He would be good, he'd insist he'd be a good boy and he'd beg and plead and cry for it. He'd do anything Washington asked at the drop of a hat. 

"Alexander, _all_ I want today is to see you make a mess of yourself."

The second Alex came, mouth wide with the scream he didn't let escape, Washington felt something inside of him click. He was tied perversely, to this boy, obsessed with each new part of him he was shown. The rest of their exchange was done without Washington's full awareness, him spending all of his focus on squandering the urge to grab Alex back and have him sink on his cock. Barely seconds after Alex left, the door was locked again and Washington sat in the same place on the desk, still warm from Alex, and dragged himself out of his own pants. He winced at how hard he was before jacking himself off without preamble. 

_Sir, I'll be so good just please, fuck my face, fuck my throat I want you to choke me with your thick cock, I want you to come in my mouth, on my face, just please please let me do this._

The thought of threading his fingers into Alexanders long hair and bucking into the tight wetness of his throat once again sent him over. He'd swallow around his cock, probably wouldn't pull off after until Washington had to yank him. 

He shook his head, trying to feel some kind of regret for spilling into his hand on a desk that sat students every day, but the only thing he could think about was how Alex softened after his climax. About how he'd be languid and boneless and how he'd likely tuck himself into Washington's chest and how Washington would lovingly pet at his hair, massaging his scalp and- 

_Stop._

He elected to wipe down the tables, all of them, with disinfectant before leaving his classroom. He'd try not to make it a habit to fuck around in his class anymore- it hadn't deterred his lust at all and he was ashamed.

The next day, Washington took Alex to board his flight and kissed him goodbye, instructing him to text or call when he landed. The gesture was domestic, revealed some of the intimate care that Washington had come to foster for him, and it earned a pleased flush. He couldn't help but feel like part of him had left with Alex, something blooming at the knowledge that he'd most likely be sleeping with the person he was on the phone with. 

It hit. The jealousy hit hard, the claim he had so wanted to stake he hadn't and now he'd be hundreds of miles away with someone he'd been so fond of and Washington's footsteps quickened and he slammed the door of his SUV a little harder than he anticipated. 

Wednesday grated against his already frayed nerves, he played a movie for his classes to mask the fact that his thoughts were elsewhere. During the short lunch break, he paced his way into the history office to retrieve his lunch, room empty save for-

"Mr. Washington! What a pleasant surprise! You've been taking lunch in your room so much lately I though you'd forgotten we had a refrigerator." 

He breathed a chuckle, trying to appease him before closing the door to the fridge and turning to leave. "I've been eating lightly to prepare for the holiday. Granola bars keep well without refrigeration." Before he could get out of the door, Jefferson's voice hurried into a panic. 

"Wait! Wait wait, I have to ask you something."

"Yes?" 

"Okay so... Hamilton," his stomach twisted at the thought, but he focused in case the question had any merit. He nodded. "So I was looking around online and I found some stuff he's posted- political stuff, economic stuff. The kid's a genius, but he's absolutely _deranged_ ," the drawl hit him with heavy annoyance. 

"What a _waste_. Such a pretty boy, too. I'm sure he's good for-" 

"Jefferson I am _not_ going to entertain this conversation any longer." A shocked smile plastered itself onto his face, Washington regretted speaking immediately. 

"What's this? Defending your prized student? I wonder if it was your recommendation letter that swayed the board. I'm sure you're quite fond of the boy. He's _irresistible_ , isn't he?" 

He felt sick. He left without a word, Jefferson standing motionless with the same coy smile playing upon his lips. 

He'd paced around his apartment when he'd gotten home, fixing himself something to eat, sweeping the kitchen, paying his insurance, reading the newspaper. It was four in the afternoon when he texted Alex. 

_to Alexander:_

_Are you busy?_

This was wrong. This was immature and dirty and Washington was already buzzing with crackling arousal when he typed into the phone. He had no idea if Alex would actually consent to this, if he'd even understand what was happening, if he'd be too embarrassed and hang up. 

_from Alexander:_

_I'll be free in a minute._

He didn't bother waiting a moment before texting back. 

_to Alexander:_

_Call me when you're available._

The call came less than a minute later, Alexander fumbled his phone before answering.

_"How was your day, sir? It was short, right?"_

"It was, I let the kids watch a documentary instead of classwork. There was no way they'd cooperate."

_"Did you make them do a worksheet?"_

"Of course,"

_"Mr. Washington, you're the wooooorst!"_

The tease made a laugh bubble up from his chest. It was cute, and he couldn't believe he was falling for _cute_.

"What are you doing right now?"

_"I was catching up on the news, I've been busy since I got here."_

"You're alone, right?"

_"Yes?"_

"Can I distract you for a moment?"  

There was a moment before a response.

_"I suppose you could."_

"So let's talk about Monday," Washington rubbed the palm of his hand over his clothed crotch, feeling his dick begin to fill out, "you shared with me some... fantasies that you've had." He heard movement, a door locking. He knew exactly what was happening. 

_"Such as?"_  

"You tell me." He carefully unzipped his pants, shoving them down to his knees but leaving his boxers on.

_"Oh, you mean like how I said I wanted you to fuck me with your fingers? About how I have to use three of my own fingers to get close to what two of yours are? I haven't been able to stretch myself as wide as I bet your cock is yet, but I've been dying to."_

His cock twitched and he pushed down his boxers, too, kicking them and his pants off so that he could spread his knees. 

"I bet you'd look so pretty around my cock, Alexander. Begging for me to fuck you." He splayed his fingers over his dick, circling it at the base with his index finger and thumb, moving his hand lazily. Alex whimpered, quiet enough that Washington could just barely hear him. 

_"Sir, can I-"_

"Can you what? You have to tell me what you need."

_"Can I touch myself? Sir?"_

His deference to authority, the willingness to be bossed around, the thirst he had to be controlled sent fire through Washington's arteries.

"You didn't ask on Monday. Why the sudden change of heart?" 

_"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself you were right there and you were so hot I couldn't help it and then you kept talking. You have no idea what your voice does to me, sir."_ he was babbling, he was most likely wringing his hands to keep them busy while he couldn't touch himself.

"I wish I hadn't sent you home, Alexander. I couldn't stop thinking about fucking your pretty mouth open. I never got those emails sent." 

There was a whine, wanton enough to prove that he had the house to himself. 

_"Please."_

"Go ahead, but make your hips do the work, not your hand, baby."

And just like that they both went together, Washington teasing and telling what he wanted Alex to do, Alex begging for anything he wanted. Washington telling him exactly how to get himself off while pulling at his own cock, barely keeping from bucking his hips, Alex trying his hardest to talk between unobstructed moans.  Washington's voice became more throaty as he approached his orgasm, Alexander's got more breathless and high pitched. And just like that Alex came with two fingers in himself with a shout, Washington followed closely behind, spilling with a hoarse groan into his hand. He reveled in the thrum of his heartbeat, the breaths that got slower on the other end of the phone call, the warmth that was only so much to remind him that he was still alone. 

_"I love you."_

He could've sworn his heart stopped and started at the same time, the words mumbled in Alexander's voice, more intimate and fucked than when he had overheard him on the phone earlier. 

"You did so well for me, Alexander."

_"Sir, I didn't mean to say-"_

"Don't mention it. Enjoy the rest of your evening." His voice concealed all of his shock, but the look on his face must have been comical. His eyes were widened, staring holes into the wall in front of him, mouth slightly ajar. 

That night he'd gotten two pictures from Alex. One was what he presumed was John's family, stuffed uncomfortably into matching sweaters and looking into an obnoxiously well equipped camera. 

_from Alexander:_

_His dad is a congressman, Thanksgiving is a perfect opportunity for a heist. If you zoom in close enough, you can see that they're all dead inside._

_to Alexander:_

_Is that Congressman Laurens?_

_from Alexander:_

_Yes!!_

_to Alexander:_

_Send pictures of dinner tomorrow night. And the decor. And his donor list._

_from Alexander:_

_Sure, sure, and I'm not confident that I can get that last one._

If Alex was still nervous from earlier, he was hiding it well. The idle chatter was uncharted territory- it was unfamiliar but completely welcome.

The second picture was horribly over-exposed, the silhouette of his two feet in front of a huge fire. 

f _rom Alexander:_

_John lit a bonfire! I forgot that southerners liked to light their yards on fire_

_from Alexander:_

_I wish you were here. The fire only keeps my front warm, not my sides_

_from Alexander:_

_Was that too much?_

_to Alexander:_

_It's not too much at all. I don't have a yard, but we can sit in front of my fireplace._

_from Alexander:_

_That's not nearly as cool as this. We have to burn your entire apartment_

_to Alexander:_

_Maybe I could take you to my home out of town. I only live in the apartment when school is in session._

_from Alexander:_

_You have two houses?_

_to Alexander:_

_Old money. It's actually an estate._

They texted like this for the rest of the break, Washington feeling less alone over his elected stay at home. 

Sunday came, the drive to the airport was completely silent. He mulled over the progression of their relationship that took place almost entirely in text over the past four days. And he was nervous to see him face to face, until he actually saw him waiting in the terminal with his suitcase, dark eyes scanning the building. The pull to him was magnetic, the draw to him was automatic. Their eyes met and Washington could never have prepared for the armful of Alex's body, the mouthful of Alex's delighted laughter, the immediate vanishment of the space between them. When Alexander pulled back from the kiss, his eyes were blown wide. 

"Time to deliver on your promises, handsome." He laughed, grin staying on his lips when Washington all but jogged to retrieve his suitcase and back to his SUV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a lot of exciting stuff in this chapter, just getting washington caught up to where the story is now (a little bit further actually)  
> next chapter will be back to alex!! and it'll be A Doozy  
> BIG NEWS: someone wrote me a lovely fic set in this universe (http://archiveofourown.org/works/6846733) and it killed me :')  
> i'm trying to steer the plot back into the classroom, we're all here for a reason


	10. Confluence

 

In his haste to bury the slip up, Alexander reverted to what he thought he did best. Some call it pestering, Alex thought of it more like keeping people in the loop. 

So he sent pictures. Of John's family, of the bonfire, of the Thanksgiving dinner, of the South Carolina sunset. Washington was receptive, responding to each one lightheartedly. Through this exchange, Alex learned that, _holy shit_ , Washington owns an estate out of town and wanted to bring him there, that Washington's love for sweet potato pie was an affection to be envied, Washington had originally planned to be back at his estate to host his ex-wife and her children's Thanksgiving but plans fell through, and that Alex hadn't been lying during the slip up at all. He texted like he spoke save for the smiley he'd sent one night when Alex said he was heading to bed. 

_from G. Washington:_

_Good night :-)_

_to G. Washington:_

_Did you just send me a smiley face? That's?? Adorable??_

_from G. Washington:_

_Go to sleep_

He took approximately an extra hour to doze off, chest almost unbearably tight at the affection. Washington didn't seem put off by what Alex had said at all. 

Sunday morning rolled around, John tearfully saw him off at the airport, spending an extra minute burying his nose into Alex's hair. 

"Please keep in touch," he whispered, sniffling. 

"Of course I will," Alex promised, squeezing his arms a bit harder around John's thin ribcage. 

The smile he got before boarding his plane was stretched impossibly wide, eyes squinting with how swollen and red they were. Tears pricked at his own eyes and he swallowed back the choke that was creeping into his throat. Before his flight took off he shot a quick text telling Washington he was on board. 

Turbulence. A child crying. A man in a turban receiving wary looks from nearly every white person on the plane. He was nervous, he was angry, his skin felt tight. So he plugged in his headphones, drowned out the noise for the remaining hour of his flight and let his mind wander. But lately, his thoughts all gravitated toward Washington. And if he'd remembered correctly, he'd said something along the lines of _"The next time I see you I won't be able to help myself."_  And then the rest of the flight was spent trying to remember the Constitution word for word to prevent an erection that would make retrieving his luggage an experience worthy of a medal of honor upon completion.

The landing was rough, the passengers were all at varying levels of annoyance and Alex was practically writhing in his seat, anxious to _get off of the fucking plane_ and into the warm cab of Washington's SUV. His aisle seat gave him the advantage to grab his overhead bag and shuffle into the aisle, full snack-size chip bag crushed under his foot. He groaned an apology at the woman who let out an exasperated sigh and filed narrowly off of the plane. 

He found his suitcase with relative ease and waited in bag collection to be picked up. 

People walked by, scooping their children out of the way of oncoming foot traffic, stopping to adjust their bags on their shoulders, pacing as they spoke on the phone _"we're ready to go, what are you doing at Cinnabon that takes that long?"_ Alex rocked on his heels, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and scanned the room. _How hard could he be to find, Alex? Tall, dark and handsome._ He let out a quiet laugh at himself. And then he shook himself back into composure. 

Washington found him first, but not quick enough to call out for Alex before he met his gaze. He almost seemed taller with the distance between them, head clearing the average height of the crowd by a few inches. His heart skipped and he felt himself jogging to cross the distance, flinging his arms around Washington's neck and pressing an excited kiss that was mostly teeth to Washington's mouth. He received a surprised grunt, muffled into the kiss and as he pulled back he saw that he had stamped the same smile onto Washington's own face. Alex flushed under the warm gaze, immediately remembering the thoughts he had drowned out earlier on the plane. They had plans. 

"Time to deliver on your promises, handsome." The phrase was embarrassingly corny, but at least it was clear. It only took the taller man four steps with long legs to retrieve his suitcase and the two booked it out of the airport as though it was burning to the ground behind them. 

"Your place?" Alex asked, pulse quick with the practical jog he had to implement to match Washington's pace. He let himself into the passenger side of the SUV as the heavy suitcase sunk the back of the vehicle the slightest bit. The two of them buckled, Alex studied the side of Washington's face as he jammed the key in the ignition. 

"Have you eaten today?"

"Shut up, you _owe_ me something."

He looked unimpressed, cocking an eyebrow as he turned to look behind him, backing out of his parking spot.

With a sigh, Alex answered. "Yes, I have eaten today, John's a freak and he force fed me a perfectly balanced breakfast. Take me home." The atmosphere shifted a bit in the vehicle as they pulled out onto the main road. 

"Oh, now you wanna go _home_?" Alex sputtered a laugh. _He's gonna make me spell it out._

"No, I want you to take me to your apartment and _fuck me_ into the first flat surface we come across." The grip Washington had on the steering wheel tightened, blunt fingernails wrapping all the way around to hit his palms. He puffed a curt laugh, keeping his eyes trained on the road. 

"Alright. We still have about a twenty minute drive though, son." 

He cracked the window just the tiniest bit, cab getting stuffy with his fluster. 

"You feeling a little hot over there?" Washington purred, taking his eyes off the road briefly. Alex hummed in acknowledgement, pitching his arm onto the ledge of the window and resting his head against the glass. The radio chattered quietly in the background, Alex chased the trees that they sped past with his eyes. Cold permeated the vehicle, seeped into his jacket and bit at his fingertips uncomfortably. He shifted himself off of the window to roll it up and instead leaned on the console that divided the seats. Silently, he cursed the width of the vehicle, wishing he could get closer to the warmth that always seemed to settle into Washington's skin. 

He rested his arm palm-up across the console, a clear invitation. The display of the radio changed as the station started to play Christmas music softly. 

Just when Alex was about to give up and shelf his head back on his knuckles, Washington softly slid his hand over his palm, hooking his fingers into the webbing of Alex's own and raising it to his mouth. 

"Christmas already?" he mumbled, barely pressing a chaste kiss onto the thin skin over Alexander's knuckles. Heat pooled in his gut, bubbled up until it reached his lungs. He peppered kisses onto each of his knuckles, all over the back of his hand. 

"Sir..." hot blood pooled under his cheeks, Washington squeezed his hand and brought them back down to the console, rubbing his thumb into the flesh of Alex's hand. 

The ride ended soon after, Washington pulling into a gated parking garage. He parked on the second story and started toward the elevator. The parking garage was remarkably well lit, cleaner than any parking garage Alex had seen, and relatively empty. The elevator had polished stainless steel doors and, upon it opening, dark wooden walls. 

In the reflection of the mirror-clear elevator door, Alex saw Washington step behind him, saw him snake his hand around to the front of his neck before he felt it. He froze, the warmth of Washington's gentle hand just barely touching the column of his throat, index finger nudging his head back a bit. Breathing was out of the question, he couldn't remember to, and all of the heat flooded out of his head and straight to his dick as he felt a wash of warm breath on his ear. Washington sucked gently on the sensitive skin beneath his earlobe and Alex keened, knees wobbling, erection hardening uncomfortably in his tight pants. He met his eyes in the reflection, but couldn't bring himself to look at Washington's.

The elevator came to a stop, already weak legs almost giving out with the shift in balance. A strong hand on his hip kept him steady as Washington led him out of the elevator and down the hallway. He didn't look at the sign posted outside of the lift to see what floor they were on and couldn't trust his perception of how long they were in the elevator for to indicate how high up they were. 

Washington's keys clinked together, reminiscent of their first day back together, as he unlocked the door of his apartment at the very end of the hallway. The lock clicked, a large hand turned the doorknob and pushed the heavy, black door open. Alex had hardly gotten the chance to slide his bag off of his shoulder when he was heaved up against the door, Washington's mouth hungry at his own. 

He chirped in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, tilting his head and parting his lips only to accept the insistent push of Washington's tongue against his own. He let the taller man explore his mouth for a moment before pushing back, curiously. Washington sighed into it and brought both hands to the top button of Alex's coat, almost snapping the them off as he made quick work of it. Alex let it fall off of his shoulders and he kicked it to the side as Washington pulled back to pull his own pullover off of his head and tossed it aside into the kitchen? -living room? He hadn't had much time to look around before being pinned. Not that he was complaining. 

Eager hands skimmed at the bottom hem of Alex's sweater brushing the sensitive skin of his hips and Alex moved to do the same.

A hum rumbled out of his chest indicating that _no, I guess that's off limits for now._ "Hands off." Okay, he was right. As he formed his mouth to ask why, he received information enough- "just you right now." The sentiment made Alex feel like he was at the center of the universe and that the Big Bang was un-happening, like he was a black hole and Washington was every single celestial body and he couldn't wait for everything to just  _hurry up_ and implode. 

His shirt came off over his head and he shivered as the cold air hit his chest, more when Washington's hot mouth planted kisses across his chest- not enough to mark, but enough to make Alex lean into the touch, arching his back off of the door. He was rewarded finally, with teeth pressing at the hollow of his collarbone before a bruise was sucked onto his soft, olive skin. A gasp made its way out of his chest, far less than he expected from how hard he was right now, how hot he was right now. More open mouthed kisses trailed down his chest, stomach flexing when he reached a ticklish spot on his stomach just above his navel. The flinch had earned him a gentle nip, Washington's teeth easily sinking into the soft bit of fat Alex had on his stomach. He hardly had time to feel self conscious, though, when all of the sudden two hands were unbuttoning, unzipping his jeans, yanking them and his boxers down in one fell swoop. Alex rolled his hips just the slightest bit, mouth falling open as a desperate mewl surfaced. He planted his hands firmly on the door, arms flush against the painted black wood and whispered a plea. 

" _Washington,_ " this wasn't what he expected, wasn't what he wanted. If anything, he wanted the complete reversal- he wanted to be the one on his knees. But then Washington glided his tongue all the way down the underside of Alex's leaking, painfully hard cock until he reached his balls, sucking on the thin skin where they met his dick and he couldn't think to be anything other than grateful. Alex moaned, unable to stop his hips as Washington pulled back to mouth at the side of his flushed erection before sinking onto the head, swirling his tongue through the wetness that had already beaded there. Alex couldn't look, let his head fall back and his eyes fall closed as his cock was slowly, _slowly_ , enveloped again in the wet heat of Washington's mouth. 

"S-sir please this is, is great but I really, really need you to stop if you don't want, _ah_ , don't want me to finish."

The resulting hum sent shocks up his spine, tensing his shoulders, as Washington ignored his pleas, determined to make him come before he got fucked. More moans bubbled out of Alex's chest as Washington alternated between taking about half of his length in and twisting and sucking around it and pulling off to lick hot swaths from behind his balls to the still leaking slit on his head. 

"Please, sir I, fuck, you're so good I'm, please if you don't s-" pleasure surged through his body making him jerk forward, orgasm close. 

"God fuck I'm, gonna come I can't hold it just please, please. Oh my god, oh my god, _fuck_ ," an open mouthed cry cut off his speech as Washington took almost all of his length into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks to suck _hard_.

Two strong arms kept his body steady and standing against the door as Alex's climax crashed through him, a trail of expletives tumbling out of his mouth as his entire body twitched with release. Washington swallowed and pulled off of his now softening dick. 

"Sir, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to come that quick I'm-" he trailed off, eyes glued to the hand that Washington dragged across his mouth, wiping at the saliva and Alex's cum and _oh my God I just came into Mr. Washington's mouth and oh_ God _I just thought of him as Mr. Washington._

Sweat beaded and rolled down the back of Alex's neck, unobstructed by clothes as he realized just how nude he was in comparison to the fully clothed man who was rising back to his feet. Dark eyes looked down at Alex, pupils blown huge with lust. He was still catching his breath when Washington brought a hand behind his neck to take the elastic out of his hair, letting it fall loose just past his shoulders. 

"You should wear your hair out more often," he purred, pulling him off of the door and flush with his chest. His footing was shaken as Washington began to step back, encouraging Alex to take a step forward. The maneuver was clumsy, they both laughed at the embarrassing way Alex's shaky legs kept knocking into Washington's knees. The ground disappeared under his feet as he was scooped up, one muscled arm hooking behind his knees and another barred behind his shoulders. Alex squeaked in surprise, hands immediately coming to his face to hide his flushed laugh as a door was toed open and he was deposited carefully onto the bed- king sized. 

"Roll over." The mood shifted quick, hunger seeping into Washington's throaty voice. He rolled onto his stomach and tucked his head into his shoulder to get a view of what was happening behind him. His mouth slacked open at the sight of Washington peeling the white undershirt he was wearing over his chest- dark hair sparsely trailing from the line of his pants to his navel, narrowly tapered hips that widened into a thickly muscled core. Alex must've whispered something, panted something, because as the shirt came completely off of his bulky chest, Washington paced to the bed and grabbed a fistful of hair at the base of Alex's neck. A groan ripped through him as the tug sent him to face forward, sent electricity straight back to his cock. 

"Not yet, baby," the punishment, hardly a punishment at all, did nothing to deter Alex from lifting his hips and parting his legs just enough to keep him there. Wide hands palmed at his ass as Washington lined himself up to be just in line with Alex's hips. Nerves bit at him with the noticeable lack of lubricant in the situation until two thumbs pulled his hole taut and a wash of hot breath hit him just right. 

"Oh my god _fuck_ , please, yes, sir _please,_ " Alex whispered, dutifully keeping his eyes trained on the mattress in front of him, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of the camel colored duvet. Briefly, he wished that Washington would relinquish a bit of the control and let Alex roam his hands, his mouth all over, but his thoughts were stopped dead in his tracks when the same slick muscle that had sucked bruises onto his collar and brought him to his first clattering climax laved a strong, slow stripe across his ass, still stretched by two thumbs on each sides. The mattress muffled most of the wail that erupted out of his lungs, sounding more like a sob than a moan. Another pattern was established- Washington would work him slowly, _slowly_ open before turning a bit to suck kisses into the sensitive flesh around him. When he flexed his tongue, pushed it past the first ring of tight muscle Alex flipped his head to gasp a lungful of cold air, unfiltered through the sheets. Alex's dick filled out again, hard against his stomach as Washington's tongue fucked into him.

He jolted as Washington withdrew and seemingly disappeared, legs burning and shaking with exhaustion and the kindling buildup of a second orgasm. A drawer slid out of its place in a bedside table and Alex turned his head again to look- tracing his eyes down the muscles of Washington's back, this time with no clothes to conceal the beautiful brown skin that seemed to just barely contain the power that he seemed to possess. In his ogling, he forgot that he wasn't supposed to be looking- Washington caught him upon turning around, bottle of lube in his right hand. He smirked as he bumped the drawer closed with his hip and tutted his disproval. 

"You're ruining the surprise, son." 

"I don't _care_ , get over here and fuck me."

Washington nudged at the inside of Alex's thigh, silently instructing him to spread and he heard the cap of the bottle snap off. He flexed his thighs in anticipation, widened the gap between his knees to better present himself and braced for a cold, lubed finger.

Instead, he got an open-palmed slap across the back of his left flank, startling a shout out of him. It was good, if unexpected, and the second what just happened got the chance to sink in Alex purred, swaying his hips. 

"Do it again." It came in the form of a breath, a heady whisper. He wasn't in much of a position to be making demands, but he was rewarded with two more hits, one in the exact same spot and one lower, at the top of his thigh. He held his breath for one, but the second hit was enough to make him moan through gritted teeth. He barely felt the finger that prodded at his entrance, still focused on the sting that Washington's other hand left and the _"good boy"_ he'd gotten from it. 

The first finger pressed in, noticeably larger than one of his own, but posed no threat after Washington's thorough preparation.

"Look at you, so open for me, so _ready_ for it."

"Please, I won't break just _please_ ," he pushed himself up onto his arms enough to push back to the knuckle. A second finger was pushed alongside, stretch noticeable even with the still distracting sting on the flesh of his ass. Washington twisted and scissored the two digits, excess lubricant making obscenely wet noises. The sounds that Alex whimpered into the sheets were insistent, hissing whenever Washington had the mercy to curl his long fingers and hit his prostate. 

"Please, fuck me, I need you, I need your cock just fucking do it already," both fingers pulled out, wiped excess onto the side of his thigh as Washington spit, right above his entrance, and gave him another slap, this time on the right side. He yelped, the action was dirty, obscene, and it prompted a new wave of arousal to course through him. The contrast between the careful attention paid to him and being treated like a toy, something made to _use_  made him weak. Alex pushed himself up to be on all fours, habituating an easier angle for both of them and sneaked a glance behind him. Washington's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, dark skin concealing whatever flush may have been there. He noticed, didn't care, and slipped the black boxer briefs off, cock bobbing heavily with the freedom. 

"Oh my _god_ ," he was every bit as big as Alex had assumed, as he had  _hoped._

Staying completely still he heard the same snap of the lubricant lid, a pause, the wet slide of Washington's hand over his length. Two hands hooked around his thighs to pull him back, feet back on the ground- Alex's position had been wrong, too high up, he didn't mind the adjustment.

The tip of Washington's cock pressed against his opening, not bothering to tease, and pushed in. The first inch was the hardest to take, Alex closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, letting himself adjust to the girth. It was about four of Alex's fingers thick. Probably five. It had been a while since he'd experimented, stretched himself that wide, usually just sticking to two or three fingers in his desperation to get off as quick as possible. But he could take it, relished the burn of the intrusion, and nodded, letting Washington know he could move. 

"God, _Alex_ , you're so tight," it came as a growl, he'd been waiting longer for this. Alex figured he'd taken most of it, figured Washington was all the way in, when he pushed more- bottomed out. Stars pricked at the corner's of Alex's vision as the warmth of Washington's body came flush against his ass. One of his hands soothingly pet at the side of Alex's thigh over the still-red flesh from the earlier slap. 

"Alexander," he hummed in response, eyes still shut.

Not good enough.

" _Alexander._ " The tone was firmer, demanded a reply. 

"Yes sir?" He couldn't imagine what he must've looked like, fucked out like this.

"Is this okay?"

He nodded through his answer, "yes sir, please, move."

Washington pulled out about halfway before pushing back in, pace slow, still accommodating the stretch. Alex whined Washington's name and _S_ _ir_ repeatedly, like a prayer, as he continued the slow slide into him before pulling himself almost entirely out. 

"Faster, _come on_ , just-" Washington rammed into Alex, sheathed himself fully, cutting his words short to make way for a garbled moan. And like that, a pace was established- fast and punishing if not for how badly Alex had been _begging_ for it, aching for it. The sick slap of skin against skin made Alex's head spin and the pressure on his prostate was just adding to the need for another hand on his dick. Just as he was about to let his arms give out, settle back on his shoulders and jerk himself off, Washington pulled out, seized him by the hips and flipped him onto his back. 

His arms fell to the side of his head, his hair fanned out behind him, and Washington hooked his hand behind Alex's knee, pushing it up until it was almost flush with his chest before pushing back in all at once. 

"You're so beautiful, so good for me, so loud for me," Washington praised, deep thrusts shaking his words each time he hit. Moans rattled desperately from Alex, incoherent. Washington's thrusts were so hard that every so often he had to stop and drag Alex back into their original position. Washington didn't talk, let the occasional grunt escape, brow furrowing in concentration. Alex sputtered, clenched his empty hands into fists as his legs were readjusted, thighs spread almost more than he could take, burning at the muscle that connected them to his pelvis. He arched his back as much as he could, climax pooling but stopped short with the neglect of his cock that laid against his stomach. 

"Washington, sir, please let me, _ah_ , let me cum please _pleaseplease_ fuck," his voice wavered, hitched with each slam of Washington's cock back inside of him. 

"You wanna come baby girl? You wanna come just like that on my cock?" His pace picked up, he removed a hand from Alex's thigh to wrap it around him and stroke it once, twice, three times before Alex broke. He spilled all over his stomach, threw his head to the side with a wail and a slur of _yes_ and _oh my god_ and _fuck_. Washington's thrusts, already erratic with his own climax building, stopped shortly after. He pulled out and gave a few tight jerks before swearing through his teeth, muscles tightening throughout his body. Hot ropes of his own spend painted over Alex's, pearlescent over his light olive complexion. 

Alex panted, slowing pulse thrumming in his ears as he turned to look back up at Washington. As his vision focused in, he took in the hard set of Washington's features- eyebrows relaxed, eyes softened, lips parted to catch his own breath. He didn't stop his stare as Washington leaned to grab a tissue, giggling as Washington cleaned off his stomach. The tissue was cast aside, somewhere on the floor, and Washington boxed in Alex's shoulders, kissing him measuredly on the lips. He couldn't fight off the smile as Washington rolled off, tapping his chest in invitation. 

Alex's own tiredness overtook him, eyes slipping shut as he nuzzled into Washington's warm chest, enveloped by his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter, i'm a slut for italics, alex is a slut for gwash's dick! fun!  
> there's not a lot of plot because this chapter was already like 1500 words longer than my average chapters and i'm a fan of consistency, expect them to talk about this next chapter.  
> so anyways, i've never actually been to an airport, sorry if i said something that was COMPLETELY wrong.  
> here's a q&a for this chapter:  
> q- what about alex's suitcase  
> a- it's alone in the cold, dark, parking garage  
> q- was the sweater in the living room or the kitchen  
> a- kitchen. i'll talk about his stupidly nice apartment soon  
> q- are you sure washington would say ":-)"  
> a- well he wouldn't say :^) and :) is terrifying  
> TEAR ME APART IN THE COMMENTS, i'm sure there's discrepancies galore in this chapter


	11. The School Morning After

Alex blinked his eyes blearily, trying to calm his own breathing in an attempt to listen for Washington's heartbeat. It didn't work, the position wasn't right. 

He wasn't tired enough to fall asleep, the sun was still high in the sky. As their breathing evened out, Washington hooked the arm that Alex had been tucked into around to rub at his scalp, blunt fingernails scratching gently. It was sweet, it was romantic and comforting and Alex was fucked out and in complete bliss and he begged his brain to keep the doubt at bay because this moment was _perfect_. 

He entertained the urge to trace his fingers across Washington's bare chest, huffing a little laugh when he raised goosebumps. 

"We forgot your suitcase," Washington hummed, barely audible if not for Alex hearing it through his chest. 

"Don't need it."

"You're naked," his chest jumped a bit with his laugh. Alex ceased his lazy petting to wrap his arm fully around Washington's chest and whined. 

"Don't _leeeeave_ ," the hand in his hair tugged a bit, not enough to hurt, not enough to do anything other than tease. The new angle allowed Alex to plant little kisses all over Washington, from the center of his chest to his collar bone. He drank in his scent, admired the salt on his skin, melted to settle himself with his ear pressed against his sternum. From here he could hear Washington's breathing, hear his heart beating gently. He again allowed himself to relax, to push out the part of him that said _it was just a fuck, get off of him_. 

"How's about you take a shower and I'll go grab your things."

"What are you trying to say?" Alex's voice was muffled by his cheek that was still pressed to the warmth of Washington's chest. 

"I'm saying that my shower is probably better than the one at your house and the only reason you're not in there already is because you're wrapped around me." He was completely right, Alex cursed him lightheartedly for it and rolled off. Without the full body contact, Alex noticed that it was _fucking freezing_  and he shivered, jaw immediately tightening so as to prevent his teeth from chattering. 

"Why is your apartment so _cold_ , Washington?" He furrowed his brows in a hilarious attempt to pout, both at their separation and the temperature. 

"Maybe if you took a hot shower and let me get your clothes you'd be a little _warmer_."

"You win," Washington stood to pull his pants back on, bed shifting with the loss of weight. He padded heavily over to a door on the same wall as the headboard of his bed and opened it, presumably the bathroom, and flipped the lights on inside. He stooped to pick up the t-shirt he was wearing earlier, knees cracking. Alex hummed a noise, aiming to sound his concern but ruined it with his laughter. All of his jokes were being ruined by the butterflies that refused to leave. 

Alex stayed on the bed, rubbed his arms with his hands in an attempt to warm himself and watched Washington exit the room, heard the jingle of his keys through the wall, before standing. As he stood he stretched, his own shoulders popping, then walked into the bathroom. 

He hesitated, wary of how cold the tile would be and scoped out the room for a rug. He hopped onto the bath mat at the foot of the shower that was coved into the wall and took in his surroundings. The light was warm, exposed bulbs affixed above the mirror that took up the whole wall, framed at the edges in the same style as the crown molding. There was a two-sink vanity- raised glass basins with waterfall faucets. Washington opted for aged copper instead of chrome, and matched with the marbled granite and dark wood cabinets it looked more elegant than rustic. There were fresh towels to the right of the vanity, folded over the bar to line up perfectly and a detached corner tub next to the door to the bath closet. 

Looking back at the shower he realized something. 

The glass pane stood directly in front of the mirror, it seemed sturdy enough to withstand his weight pressed against it and then some, and the shower was wide enough to accommodate two people with ease. He made a mental note. 

He slid open the glass door and turned on the water, stepping away until it ran hot and fiddled with the dimmer while he waited. 

The water was just on the right side of scalding when Alex stepped underneath the spray and slipped his eyes shut, letting the water drum against his head and shoulders. There were four unmarked bottles on a sunken ledge in the shower- Alex chose the amber colored soap in the glass bottle, pumping a handful into his palm and massaging it into his hair. The smell was unplaceable- it was a fraction of what Washington smelled like. It was the warm, almost sweet note that hid deep under the spice of what Alex assumed was his cologne, the subtle herbal scent of what Alex assumed was his aftershave. He'd investigate after he was out of the shower, snooping was never too bad.

The bubbles in his hair sopped down his back and he rubbed them around to his stomach, fully scrubbing off the rest of the mess from earlier. Heat aggravated the swell of where he'd been hit on his ass, hands careful not to touch any more than he had to. He had been unscrewing the nozzle on another bottle when he heard the distinct thud of his suitcase above the rain of the shower. The door opened, cold air hardly permeating the steam that hung in the room. Alex flinched, ignoring his immediate impulse to shout, throw something until the intruder got out. It was just Washington, it was Washington's shower, and there was nothing left of Alex to be left up to his imagination.

"How's the shower?"

"It's good," he spoke loud enough to be heard as he smelled the contents of the bottle in his hand. It was overpoweringly sharp, medicinal. "What is this stuff?"

Washington laughed, leaning against the vanity as he closed the door. Alex couldn't do more than make out the general figure of him, steam fogging up the glass. He wiped a little window at face level, offering a cheeky grin when the glass was as clear as it could get. Before it could steam back over, he caught a look of startled admiration.

"It's something Martha turned me onto when we were still married. It does wonders for aches...I usually use it in the bathtub if I'm particularly sore." Alex's stomach dropped at the mention of his ex-wife. He already knew about _her_ , knew about _them_ but the thought unsettled him. He shook it off, let it drain with the water that he rung out of his hair before shutting the flow off. 

Washington was the first to open the door, wrapping one of the towels around Alex's neck, drying his hair. He swallowed the exclamation that wanted to escape at the fondness of the gesture-he was being babied and he couldn't even pretend to fight it. The space between them shortened, Alex still inside the shower and Washington still outside of it, and their lips met in another gentle kiss. Alex laughed when the toweled grip pulled his shoulders forward, stumbling into the strong chest that he'd always been so fond of. When they broke, Alex complained. "Sir, you're getting _wet_."

" _Sir_ ," Washington repeated, gentle smile in his eyes as he let Alexander dry himself off.

"Is that- is that weird? I can try to stop if it's weird for you."

"No, no, I don't mind. You're allowed to call me by my first name, though, Alexander. We're coworkers." No contest. The statement felt odd. A final kiss before Washington left, leaving the bathroom door open. 

Alex dressed himself- clean pair of boxers, the South Carolina tie-dye hoodie and a pair of black socks. The outfit earned him a look when he exited the bedroom, Washington was digging through a drawer in the kitchen to his right. 

"You can borrow a pair of sweatpants if you don't have any, son." 

"No pants on weekends. It's a rule." He hadn't heard Washington genuinely laugh since...since ever. 

His propriety usually cut him off after a single huff of huff, smile wiped as soon as he could shake it off. But in the safety of his apartment, in the security of his own home, he allowed himself to let it exist. Alex was awestruck at the throaty noise that racked through the man, shaking his shoulders and widening his face with the unrestrained grin. The silence on his end was noticed, the smile twisted into a look of concern. Alex's heart wrenched at the cessation of it.

"Is something the matter?" 

"No, nothing's wrong I just... I've never heard you laugh? Like _actually_ laugh." He found what he was looking for- a lighter- and made his way to the fireplace. It was a gas fireplace, set into a brick facade across from a wide leather couch. Alex pulled the throw off of the back of the sofa and nuzzled into the arm, settling the blanket over his legs as Washington lit the fire, just as he'd promised. The gas caught and he adjusted the flames until they were flickering more gently, there was probably an instruction booklet somewhere about the safest flame height. Upon turning around, he crooked an eyebrow.

"Do I have to follow the no pants rule, too?"

"Absolutely! I can't believe you had to ask." 

The rest of the day was spent without pants under the throw, watching movies, asking questions, pressing kisses when the moment called for it. At one point, Alex had drowsed off and drooled on Washington's shoulder- he offered to take a cab home in his embarrassment, he only got pulled in closer for it. They ordered take-out, Washington insisted on watching _Shawshank Redemption_ , Alex insisted they watch _Finding Nemo._  

At that point _Washington_ fell asleep. Alex would've resigned, curled into his lap and fallen asleep, too, if not for how loud he was snoring. He tiptoed off to wash up for bed and returned to him rubbing at his eyes and turning off the television, turning off the fire. 

"Bedtime?" Alex laughed when the older man yawned. It was only about eight, but winter sunsets came early. Washington came up to him, stooped to plant a kiss on his cheek. Alex flopped in bed, nested under the blankets and waited for Washington to come back from brushing his teeth. 

Lights turned off, the mattress dipped as the two joined under the blankets. Alex adjusted, stretched his neck to kiss him goodnight and was taken by surprise when Washington wrangled him into his arms, pushed back hungrily.

"You cold?" he whispered, the smell of mouthwash flooded with his warm breath. 

"Mmmm a little," Alex would've pressed his cold feet against him if not for his socks. 

"Let's warm you up, baby."

It wasn't the sleepy handjob that Alex was hoping for, but being tucked fully into Washington's heat, forehead against his neck, legs intertwined. He hadn't ever been held this close, not even by John, and the thought made his chest constrict, tears threatening to form at his eyes. He planted the same kiss onto the hollow of Washington's throat again and again until the two drifted off, almost too warm. 

Over the course of the night Alex had completely flipped around, nearly strangled himself in his shirt, kicked off his socks and stolen the majority of the blankets- Washington mainly kept the same position, but looped his arms around to hold Alex by his stomach. They woke up to the sound of Washington's alarm- the loud buzz of an _actual_  alarm as opposed to the iPhone ringtone that Alex usually woke up to.

_Monday._

There was school today.

There was school today and he was sore from being fucked into the same bed he was in now and he would be showing up in Washington's SUV and Washington was waking up and _shit._

_Alex you've gotten yourself into something messy._

The two got ready around each other, Washington showering as Alex opted to just wash his face, still clean enough from yesterday. Alex tossed all of his belongings into his suitcase, set out the leftover take-out for them to take for lunch. 

_Was that too obvious? People would notice. People are going to notice._

Before he had too much time to fret, Washington had his suitcase in hand and stood by the door. 

"I'll be right back, be ready in a minute."

Alex whispered a _sure_ and turned, letting panic set in. He took stock of everything. 

One, he had been fucking his high school teacher. Two, he was in his teacher's very expensive apartment the morning after, the _school_ _morning_ after.  Three, he was about to go teach kids in less than an hour while he could barely walk and he probably looked-

He still had hickies. He still had a very visible hickey at the base of his neck, his cold fingers flitted to the spot buttoned up the uppermost button, hissed. Washington returned, looked at him expectantly.

"Sir, can I borrow a tie? You left something on my neck that I have to almost strangle myself to hide."

Steps resounded throughout the apartment as Washington retreated to his room, came back with three. 

Alex picked the plainest one, a blue-black silk with little white-gold lotuses embroidered into it subtly. 

Two weeks ago Washington had fixed his tie in his doorway, before their first kiss against his door that night and Alexander all of the sudden realized how fast things seemed to be moving. At how slowly things seemed to be moving at the time.

They drove out, hand in hand, beat the sunrise. 

"Sir, just so we're clear this is a discreet relationship, right?"

"Of course. We're not in risk of losing our jobs, teachers couple off routinely- blame the hormones. But for the time being, a low profile might be the best."

So they let go of each other's hands, Alex mournfully leaned into the window, careful not to leave any marks. He caught a whiff of himself, still smelled like Washington's soap, a bit like leather. And for the moment he felt safe. Before they pulled into the school, before they could've been spotted by anyone, Alex reached over to peck Washington's cheek, missing and just barely getting his jaw. Washington tucked Alex's hair, not in its usual knot, behind an ear and softened. 

The day seemed to drag along in his own room, students just as loud as they were before break, excited to tell all about their break. He'd let them off the hook with assignments before break and they were all too eager to protest the project he gave the second they came  back from it, but they had otherwise returned to their opinions of Mr. Hamilton as a _cool dude._

His lunch was taken with Washington, they grabbed an extra plate from the history office and ate at least four feet apart from each other. Washington lamented his students' post-break disorder over a box of lo mein, Alex nodded and laughed along. 

During his fourth period planning block, he got a visitor. 

"Mr. Alexander Hamilton! How was your holiday?"

"It went well, I visited a friend in South Carolina. I just got back yesterday afternoon." Jefferson hummed his approval.

"Your tie seems familiar," his heart dropped. Jefferson squinted, eyeing him up and trying to place the memory. He waved it off, fell into a jaunt as he made his exit. 

"Oh!" Not out of the clear yet. "Your hair looks good down, Alexander. You seem different today... Are you sure that friend of yours down south is just a friend?" He would've laughed it off if it wasn't so close. 

"Just a friend from college."

"Hamilton. You're wearing a tie, you're all buttoned up, you're walking like you got your ass handed to you and your hair is _literally_ down. Someone's taking care of you." Alex stared in disbelief. Things hadn't even started, it had been less than a day back and he'd already been caught. 

Jefferson hooted a laugh, doubling over with his utter  _joy_. "I'm  _kidding_ , I'm only kidding. You should see your face. Be careful, Hamilton. Students see  _everything._ "

Not ten minutes after Jefferson had left, not twenty minutes before the dismissal bell rang, Alex got a text.

_from Angelica:_

_You're teaching my baby sister!_

_from Angelica:_

_And you're fucking the APUSH teacher, aren't you?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'M SO SORRY for the slow update!! i wrote a lams thing and a jamilton thing between this chapter and the last so i wasn't totally inactive and this chapter was fluff and i've been in a cry-baby mood so :")   
> anyways HERE we are, almost in a secure relationship, relentless fluff, the beginnings of a Scandal  
> ruin me in the comments, expect the next update to be stressful


	12. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for panic attack!! i'm sorry :'^)

_to Angelica:_

_Why is this your first text to me in almost a year?_

 

_from Angelica:_

_Because Eliza told me that you were teaching and that you talk constantly to the "lame teacher next door" and I asked what his name was_

 

_to Angelica:_

_How did you go from that to assuming we were fucking?_

 

_from Angelica:_

_have you never heard yourself drunk??_

 

Washington walked in a few minutes after the bell to Alexander holding his head with his hands, hair fallen to obscure most of his face. The way his shoulders were drawn tight was a clear sign of his distress at whatever was happening on the phone he was staring at. 

"Alexander?" He flinched but didn't look up, letting his arms collapse and falling to bury his nose into the crook of his elbow, hiding his face. The smell of the soap, the smell of Washington, still lingered on his skin, in his clothes. It was subtle, it was choking Alex with warm fear. It's not what he wanted to feel for the scent.

"What's the matter, Alex?"

He whined, trying to play off the situation as a headache, trying to be melodramatic to conceal his guilt. Humiliation, panic fizzed inside of him. 

Washington's name would be tainted, he wouldn't be the _scary-but-good_ history teacher, he'd be the gay teacher who fucked boys half his age. Students would be uncomfortable, teachers would block him out. They were perfectly within the rules, perfectly within the law, but the truth was something that few would approve of. He couldn't be a dirty little secret for more than 24 hours and he hadn't even gotten the chance to keep his mouth shut, people just _fucking guessed_. 

"We can't... we can't be-" his voice trailed off, gurgled into a wet sob. Footsteps retreated, Alex felt frozen solid- his blood stuck, crystallized in his legs paralyzing everything other than his shaking shoulders. He was too embarrassed to lift his hands, too embarrassed to admit that a text from his ex that hit the nail on the head had reduced him to tears so easily. The ringing in his ears blocked out the sound of the door closing, of footsteps returning, the gentle hand on his back made him flinch. He jerked away, fingertips freezing, stabbing at him, without lifting himself out of his arms. 

"Alexander, tell me what's wrong."

"Jefferson knows, the Schuylers know," he groaned, muffling his despair in the cotton of his shirt. 

"Did Jefferson say something to you?"

"He said it looked like I was being taken care of. Like I was with someone."

"Baby, that doesn't mean he _knows_ ," the pet name washed hot over his back, an unpleasant rendition of rinsing his hair in Washington's shower the day before. He couldn't help the way frustration bit into his voice, scorching its way from his stomach to his mouth. 

"If he hasn't already guessed he will _soon_ , George. We were careless, I was careless to take this job, I was careless enough that I lost my fucking scholarship and ended up back _here_ and I can't even handle being _home_. You shouldn't have offered the job, I have to-"

"Stop-" 

"-quit. I can't work here with you, the kids are gonna notice and you're gonna be seen differen-"

" _Alexander stop_." The tone bit, made his heart fall guiltily into his stomach. He had never been scolded like this. He'd bore witness to it, to other students in the classroom. It shut him right up, panic crowding in his lungs unable to escape.

Eye contact. Not anger, but assured confidence, a sense of duty. It was another implied responsibility of his- keeping his students in line, keeping his classroom in check. He blinked tears out of his eyes, wiped at them with his palms.

"You shouting about it is not the way to keep things discrete."

"Sir, we can't-"

"Let's get you home." He didn't have much of a choice, his suitcase was still in Washington's SUV. A sick wave of anxiety settled in his bones, head beginning to ache with the tension of his eyebrows, of his jaw. The walk was rushed, silent. The car ride was rushed, silent. Alex didn't dare look over to the driver's side of the vehicle, already trying to mentally sever the attraction, the affection. If he wasn't in the vehicle with him he would've retreated, would've busied himself with reading, writing, researching, debating. There were so many things he could be doing, so many _productive_ things that his infatuation with his former teacher had stopped him from doing. He couldn't even make his thoughts be productive when Washington was near, almost more so when Washington wasn't there. 

The second the vehicle was put in park, Alex gripped the handle of the door, let himself out.

He'd let others' suspicion send him into a full blown panic, lungs spasming with the beginnings of what would either be an ugly bout of angry crying or hyperventilation. He wanted to be alone for both, mostly because of how bad his panics got. 

John had been an angry guy. He rarely directed it toward Alex, rarely let Alex look at him when he was mad, but he always, _always_ softened when Alex got like this. It usually made it worse, Alex would work himself into hysterics, blow up, scream without feeling it, detached from his brain. When they happened he felt trapped in his heart, his stomach, while his brain did its own thing, his mouth did what it wanted, his face did what it had to. 

He stumbled, regained his footing and screwed up his face in an attempt not to cry again as he walked around to the back, hot exhaust still radiating from the vehicle. It cut as Alex opened the trunk, narrowly dodged getting hit in the face, and grabbed the handle of the suitcase. He yanked, tried to pull it out of the trunk. Couldn't. It was stuck. The recoil when he unlatched his fingers set him off.

Washington appeared beside him, raised his hand to touch but stopped short. He knew something was wrong. 

And then he broke. 

All too suddenly his pulse rocketed, shallow, fast. His lungs felt small, his veins felt tight, his skin itched, his head throbbed. The sobs were ugly, interrupted with the desperate gasps for more air, more air, _please_ more air. Panic flashed in Washington's eyes, too, before understanding settled in. 

Through his shivering, breathlessly, "go away, please please, go, please go away." And Washington's voice was calm, calm, hushes and hums. Alex was sure he kept talking, babbling, as he felt himself escape for a moment. His eyes saw his surroundings, overcast sky, Washington in front of him, his back now against the frame of the vehicle, pressed as far into it as he could. But his thoughts raced. 

_I fucked up Columbia. I could've done better, I distracted myself with stupid shit, stupid debates with stupid people, stupid essays that wouldn't matter because I didn't have my fucking degree. I didn't graduate, I didn't enroll again. John hates me for leaving, hates me for leaving him in New York, hates me for leaving in South Carolina._

"Hush, Alexander, breathe," George cooed. Not good enough.

_Took a stupid job, a low paying job, should've taken out a loan, worked somewhere better, gone back to school, reenrolled at Columbia. Anything, anything else. I did it for him, for_ him _. Let my stupid high school crush ruin me even more, let it grow, let it run, made him kiss me. Made him kiss me, made him care, made him stay. Cost him his reputation, his job, his name._

"Stay with me, baby, catch your breath." 

Alex may have been screaming, crying, whispering, he didn't know. Because at some point his thoughts had gone from _I fucked up_ to _I can't breathe, I'm going to die._ He felt lightheaded, bit his lips closed in an attempt to hold his breath, screwed his eyes shut to stop himself from hyperventilating. 

"No, no, baby, breathe."

He was sitting on the bumper of the vehicle now, somehow, breaths slowing but still coming through a constricted windpipe, wheezing. As his breaths gave way to more relaxed sobs, he leaned into Washington's chest, shook beneath his arms, warm against his cold, clammy skin. 

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I'm so so sorry, I'm sorry._

"Shhhh, don't apologize." He had been speaking out loud, he had probably said all of that out loud.

In his mind, he erased the large number on the sign of _Days Since Last Panic Attack_ and penciled in a zero. He was still shaking, still breathing heavily through his mouth into Washington's embrace for what felt like seconds, hours. He only snapped back into it when he had fully calmed down, when the cold night bit back into his cheeks, into his ears.

"Let's get you washed up, then you can come back home with me."

"No." Alex wriggled out of the grip, his own words digging thorns in between his ribs. He was breaking his own heart, breaking himself in front of the one who had successfully calmed him down- a first.

"You don't... you shouldn't be alone tonight."

"I'm not a child."

"I'm not calling you a child, I'm telling you that my home is alw-"

" _Please,_ " his voice wavered, exhausted. "Just help me with my bag and leave."

He ducked out of Washington's arms, walked with his head down to his apartment door. The memory of being pressed up against it crept into him, wrapped around his throat, wound itself around his eyes. He unlocked it, stole inside, leaving the front door open. He hadn't been in his apartment in nearly a week, he was probably out of edible food. It was freezing cold- he'd turned the heat down before he went. 

He debated locking himself in the bathroom, not letting Washington near him, not letting himself look at who he was pushing away. He was still sniffling, tucked his arms as tight as he could against his abdomen in an attempt to keep him together.

The same distinct thud of the suitcase.

Today was yesterday, replayed in the worst way. The nightmare that took the dream and twisted it, mangled it. And the worst part was that it was an overreaction. It's just who Alex was- an overreactor. 

With the smallest gesture, the first step past acknowledgement he had fallen in love and with the first small crack in the picture he ran. 

And now Washington hated him. Thought he was a freak. A handful. His broken brain wasn't worth the fuck, whatever Washington was there for wasn't worth it.

When Washington sat next to him on the bed he shifted, crammed himself into the corner, refused to look. 

Through the silence, Alex could sense deliberation. The familiar breath that signified the beginning if a speech. 

"The day before Thanksgiving you said something on the phone."

_Why is he bringing this up?_

"You said that you loved me. Apologized like it was an accident."

"It was. I didn't mean to say it."

"What about now? Do you mean it?"

_Yes. Yes yes yes oh my god yes._

"I don't know."

"Alex-"

"Don't-" this was predictable, it would hurt.

"Alexander, you mean more to me than you think."

"Because I'm your student? Because my test scores were high and you could show me off to other teachers? Because I was smart, because I wasn't a regular kid?"

"You aren't my student-"

"Well then what? Because I'm young? Because I'm all too willing to _fuck_ you? Because you didn't even have to _try_?" He was raising his voice, he was pinning himself into the corner, he wasn't panicking but the rush was the same. It was backwards, it was out of his control. If Washington didn't leave he would keep screaming, keep shouting until he couldn't. 

"Just please. Get out I can't. I can't have- you have to go, please."

He'd seen concern, he'd seen discipline, he'd seen restraint, lust, warmth, a lot in George's eyes. This was pity. This was hurt.

"Alexander we're allowed to be together. Don't push me out for _my_ sake, I am fully capable of keeping myself in line."

"You don't want me."

"I do," it was soothing, it was warm, his voice seemed to straighten him out, tidy him up gently. He let Washington put a hand on his knee, gentle but heavy. 

"Do you still want me to go?"

"Yes." He gagged on the word, retched silently. It was a lie. It was a lie he had to tell because Washington was lying about wanting him. Nobody wanted him.

"Please stay _safe_. I'm leaving my ringer on, call me if you need anything."

He buried his head between his knees, couldn't bear to see or hear Washington leave. 

He forced himself to eat, forced himself to shower. He didn't bother unpacking his suitcase before he popped two melatonin, prayed for sleep. 

 

The next morning he parked in the opposite end of the parking lot, carefully avoided looking at Washington's white SUV. He walked a different way to his classroom, arrived at the same time as the students to avoid being in his room any longer than he had to be. He'd seen Washington pass in front of his door, saw him leave. 

 

In second period he bit the bullet. 

"Eliza," he'd called her to his desk, "pass these out please and," quietly, almost under his breath, "stay for a minute after class. We've gotta talk about something." She nodded, whipped her head to get a loose hair out of her face and got to work. He didn't miss the way she swayed her hips, let her hands linger on each desk, brought her hands to her lips to wet her index finger with her tongue before returning to her task. 

That had been him in Washington's class. 

And he wasn't impressed. 

As the students filed out slowly for lunch, Eliza pretended to look frantically in her bag. 

"Yeah, don't wait up! I've gotta find my flash drive, I'll be there in a sec!" The last three students left. 

"So! What can I help you with, Mr. Hamilton?"

"What on _God's_ earth did you tell your sister?" The color drained out of her face. This isn't what she thought the meeting would be about. 

"What- what do you mean, I tell Angelica everything, I have no idea what you're talking about." She knit her eyebrows together, shifted her eyes away in embarrassment. 

"What did you tell her about me?"

"I told her that you were my substitute."

"And?"

"And that she had good taste." Cute. 

"Eliza, that's adorable," sarcasm and pity stained his words, "but what did you say about Washington?"

"What _I_ said isn't what you should be worried about. I just told her you and him seemed to get along well. She won't tell me what she knows about it, but she knows something."

He could kick himself with the sense of relief that came at her not knowing. 

"Okay. That's all."

"Really? What are you _hiding_? Are you two secretly related? Did he bust you out of jail? Are you dealing him drugs?"

"Okay, first of all, two of those things presumptuously put me in a very bad social standing, so _rude_. Secondly, it's none of your business." The fake disheartenment didn't mask the curious sparkle in her eyes. She was cute, digging a little harder than he would've hoped, but pleasant. She was practically tripping over herself to try and impress him but Washington had been right about admirers. 

She left, Alex felt his stomach drop again. 

Washington didn't stop in for lunch, didn't stop in after dismissal.

Jefferson did. Madison did. 

"Alexander! You've met James, haven't you?" He'd been a senior on the debate team when Hamilton was a freshman, quiet boy, incredibly sharp witted. They'd re-met when Alex took the job here but- "you didn't tell me you two had met before."

"Sorry, I guess I just forgot to mention it," Alex looked sheepishly at James. He seemed totally indifferent. 

"Anyways. I came to tell you some exciting news." Alex looked up, afraid of what Jefferson's idea of exciting was.

"We have the distinct opportunity of getting a new principal soon! The only catch is that the school board is requiring it be a current staff member. Your's truly is shoeing for it." He elaborately gestured toward himself, eliminating any confusion Alex may have had. 

"Congratulations?"

"Not so fast. I have some tough competition." James looked at Thomas, arms folded across his chest. He'd gotten absolutely  jacked in college. And then James spoke instead.

"Washington might be running," he said, jerking his head in the direction of their shared wall. 

"Now, Alexander, you've known Washington longer than I have and y'all seem to be on pretty good terms. Has he mentioned anything about this?" 

He hadn't. Alex knew, he clung onto every word Washington ever said, let them be inscribed on his bones, in his memory.

"He hasn't brought it up, no. Should... Do you want me to-"

"Ask him? That's up to you. The position is competitive, but it's not an election. The best we can do is clean up our acts for the superintendent and pray. If he were aiming for it though, it would certainly be helpful to know."

"Why? If it's not an election, if you only have a say in your own standing then whether or not he's applying doesn't matter to you unless you're trying to- oh my god I'm not going to help you sabotage Washington," he laughed incredulously. He was embarrassed, humiliated still at the- the _everything_ that had happened. And now his loyalty was being tested for someone who's single day of silence felt like a lifetime. 

"Sabotage! That's a harsh word."

"I assume if he wants you to know he'll tell you, but I have no idea."

"Why don't we all ask together?" 

_If you squirm they'll know something's up, but this entire situation is bullshit. He's trying to intimidate you._

Divine providence would have it that his phone rang, noise jarring the tension Jefferson had worked so hard to build. 

"I'm sorry I've gotta take this, I'll see you tomorrow? Jefferson? And later, James," he folded his laptop, stuffed it into his bag as he rose. He looked to see who was calling on the third ring. 

Lafayette

He answered the phone, paced to the door. 

_"Alexander! How are you? It's been ages, what the hell is your problem?"_

"Hey, yeah, hang on," he tucked the phone into his neck. Jefferson and Madison looked at each other, not moving from their spots in the middle of the room. 

"Are you two coming?" It was as though they had no idea they were supposed to leave the way Jefferson snapped up, trotted to the door. 

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Hamilton."

One body out, two bodies out, lights off, door closed, door locked.

_"-to God if you don't pick up this phone I will-"_

"I'm back, sorry. Clearing the room."

_"Clearing the room? Is this going to be a sexy talk, Alexander? I thought you had someone,"_

"What has John told you?"

_"Not too much. He caught me up on what you were doing, he thought the idea of you teaching children was adorable, I find it terrific in both senses of the word. Don't kill them."_

"Did he tell you that I teach Angelica's little sister?"

" _Mon dieu, l'horreur."_ The mock-horror was clear through the phone. 

"She's not bad, she's-"

_"Tais-toi, we have more important things to talk about."_

He hip-checked the door, setting sun blinding him as he walked outside.

"Somethin' up with you?"

_"Non, John told me you were in love? And you didn't tell me?"_

He couldn't really think of anything to say so he hummed into the receiver. Gilbert matched him with a whine of protest. 

_"Quel est le problème? Did you fuck it up? Did he fuck it up?"_

"It was me I just. I flipped out, I don't know."

_"Was it another panic attack?"_

"It's been so long since my last one I had no idea what was happening I just-"

_"Alex! Alex, Alex listen. Do you love him?"_

"He picked me up from the airport on Sunday and we spent the day together and it felt...good? Just hanging out with him?"

_"Answer the question."_

"Yeah. I do but I can't make him lose his job he's been here for _so long_ I'm not worth-"

_"Merde, how old is he? Never mind, don't answer that- Alexander! What the fuck are you doing!"_

"Gil, I can't-"

_"Apologize! Blow him in his office, I'm sure he'll forgive you."_

"He has a reputation."

_"Ugghhh he is an adult Alexander, let him make that decision. Spare the children their eyes, sure, but follow your heart! Idiot! This is what happens when you ignore me! You're a mess!"_

He'd been sitting in his car, not pulling off immediately like he'd intended. And in his delay, he'd ran into the problem he'd tried to delay. 

Washington slipped into his SUV, didn't look in his direction. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. 

"Yeah...okay, okay yeah. I gotta go, I'll talk to you later."

_"Please keep me in the know, Alexander. We all miss you, not just John."_

They said their goodbyes. Alex hung up. 

Washington drove away before Alex could even reach for his door handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my chapters keep getting longer r ip....  
> okay!! alex u fool.....washington can take care of himself Please...  
> so! writing this was remarkably easy and also..very difficult? i have panic disorder and i haven't actually had a panic attack in a while (bless) but i remember exactly what they're like and...if it's not too in depth it's honestly because i'm dead ass scared of triggering myself so? i think i did okay. anyways.  
> 1- alex probably had a crush on james madison in the debate team until he beat his ass  
> 2- washington has way too much experience w/ panic attacks (high schoolers have mental illnesses!! he handled it well but was probably way more scared because he's fucking head over heels  
> 3- deus ex machina lafayette except it didn't work  
> next chapter will be. EXCITINg i think!  
> ALSO I MISSED IT LAST CHAPTER, thanks for 3,000 (3,500?) hits and over 200 kudos! i love u! i love u i love u i love u


	13. Fast

Tuesday morning was rough. He tried to distract himself with anything, but his mind kept looping back to Monday, to Sunday. He spent a majority of his day arguing with himself over whether or not he should try to set things right or if he should just pray that Washington never spoke to him again.

Tuesday night was hopeful after a day of deliberations.

Jefferson seemed totally oblivious, Eliza didn't know anything and she was a fairly reserved girl- she probably wouldn't have anyone to tell. And if she had anyone, she probably wouldn't because she _seemed_ to be trying to impress him. 

On Wednesday he'd do it. He'd walk into George's classroom like normal, talk to him over lunch about _anything_ , just to get the dialogue open again. 

But Wednesday was a train wreck. 

There was a fire drill during his first period, his second period class got out of hand, his lunch was occupied by Jefferson- and a much quieter Burr and Madison- with weak political prattle. He'd gotten so sucked into arguing Jefferson's backhanded remarks about "political correctness" that he'd missed the time. 

Third block students were assigned a campaign project and a few worked in his room all throughout fourth period, too. They called their friends in to see their progress after the dismissal bell rang and by the time they left Washington's room was dark, his door was locked.

Thursday was easier on his end, not on Washington's. He was being observed by administrators, every time Alex walked by the vice principal was there. Come lunch he was gone- probably out with other teachers. According to Burr, it was common before Alex showed up. He couldn't work up the courage to talk to him after school, either. 

By Friday he was desperate. The worry was beginning to fester, the memories from Washington's apartment wouldn't stop creeping into his mind. He was mad that he was in love, mad that he couldn't will it away. But he missed the warmth, missed the smell. He hated his own shitty soap, he was running out of the conditioner that he'd stolen from John, he still had Washington's tie. 

On Friday morning there was an accident on his way to work. He'd shown up seconds before the bell had rung, busted into his own class, unlocking the door and letting in the long line of frustrated students.

"God, Mr. Hamilton, we've been standing out here forever."

He ignored the comment, slung his bag onto his desk and carded past the kids swinging into the class next door. 

Washington was close to the door, writing the day's date and agenda on the chalkboard, Alex nearly knocked into him. 

"Oh, woah, uh. Hey, can- can you drop by my room for lunch today?" His blood ran quick, hotter than the day he'd gotten hired. He was nervous, he was scared of rejection. But then Washington's face changed. He didn't smile, he almost did but he didn't. His eyes softened, his brows lifted with engagement. He seemed pleasantly surprised. 

"Sure, absolutely. Bell's about to ring, though."

"Yeah! Yeah," Alex panted, remembering how he had run from his car. His nerves must have blocked that out. Maybe that's why his pulse was so quick. 

Back in his class, the lesson moved painfully slow. He was catching the odd-day classes up with the notes before he could assign the project. 

"Okay so, Greene has this project outlined for you guys but it sucks so I fixed it."

"Did you make it harder?" The class laughed.

"I can if you want me to." Protest. Good, they were awake. 

"As I was saying, you're designing a campaign. But instead of doing the whole 'vote for me because _blah_ ' you're doing commercials like they have on TV. You know the ones. There are rules, but I need you all to split up and write platforms so you can get to the dirty work next class." They immediately broke, already talking about the assignment. It was great, they were excited, the project was a little bullshit but it was fun. 

Then the bell rang and he all but shepherded the students out. 

"Go. Go, go eat, goodbye, goodbye," they laughed at him, leaving regardless of what he said. 

And then George leaned against his door frame with his hands in his pockets and a calculated look.

Alex rushed nervously to meet him at the door, he stepped inside as Alex pushed it shut, locked it. It was a bit backwards. It was okay. 

"Alexander?" His hands were still in his pockets, his expression gave away little. 

_Say something._

He opened his mouth to speak, made direct eye contact, froze. The  days of preparation dropped out beneath his feet, completely gone. Instead, 

"I meant it." 

The statement suspended itself in between them. Eyebrows furrowed. 

_Try again._

"I mean. I meant what I said that night. Not Monday night, the other night. The phone night." 

Finally the facade cracked. The four day ceramic set of his features crumbled, his eyes twinkled with a smile. He moved, closer, until Alex had his back against the wall. Not touching, but close. It was natural, it felt safe. 

"Refresh my memory?"

"I love y-" he was cut off with Washington's lips on his, a swell of force and affection. He pulled away, delight plastered across his features, crows feet discernible from this close.

"I didn't catch that, can you try again?" Alex threw a playful punch at his chest, wove his hand into the collar of his shirt. Just short of another kiss he tucked his head down, cast his eyes down too. 

"I'm sorry," he breathed it like a laugh, like the admission was the last leg before he fled. The grin on Washington's lips faltered. 

"I usually don't flip out like that. I didn't mean anything I said on Monday I was just..." George pulled back a bit, to get a better look at his face. 

"Scared?" Alex's nose brushed against George's cheek with the tiny nod, shame creeping back up into his head, onto his cheeks. 

"Can I say something to put you at ease?" Alex lifted his eyes. His grip on George's collar eased, hesitant. 

This close, his eyes were too crossed to actually see much, just registering the deep brown of his skin, the warm black of his eyes.

"I am very much in love with you," reverently he said it, as though it was a prayer, as though to admit it was a sin. As though it was a confession he made knowing the consequence was high but the weight of it in his heart was heavier. As though he'd committed an act of beautiful treason and Alexander, between him and the wall, was the gallows. 

He'd walked into it, knew Alex was a handful, and dove into it with eyes open.

Then Alex's mouth was hot, open on his, teeth pressing against his top lip begging for Washington to ravage him, to eat him alive. With the baring of his affections, Alex matched him with an act of near-forceful submission. An offer he couldn't turn down.

Washington plunged his tongue into the familiar wet heat of Alex's mouth, pressed against the bottom row of teeth. Admired them as he had originally appraised them during their first coupling on the other side of this same wall. 

Mewls, chirps came, mostly muffled by his mouth's occupation, at the fingers that Washington had laced into his hair, hanging at his shoulders again. 

To George's great surprise, Alex pushed, broke the kiss and twisted until their positions were opposite. Spit glistened on his lips, worried pink from the days they'd spent apart that Alex gnawed at them, flushed from their kiss. 

"We have twenty-eight minutes left of lunch, ten minutes until anyone gets suspicious," Alex whispered, eyes glued on Washington's mouth, hands splayed insistently on his chest. 

"Alex we shouldn't do this," but it was too late, there was already a hand cupping him through his pants. He pressed his lips together, silenced the exhale.

"But _sir_ , you're already halfway hard," Alex tucked his head into Washington's neck and rubbed the palm of his hand over his cock, steadily filling out. 

" _Christ_ Alex," George sputtered, caught off guard. 

"Sir, please let me suck you off, _please_ ," he fumbled his hands to unbuckle George's belt. He was powerless to stop it, Alex was quick, Alex was convincing. 

Washington's head thudded against the brick as a hand slipped past his unbuttoned pants, into his boxers, around his cock. 

"I'll have to swallow, have to lick you clean, hide the mess. I'll be so good, so so good just let me blow you, God you're so _big_ I bet I won't be able to talk after, please."

"Yes, yes okay do it, go."

All at once Alex dropped to his knees, hot breath washing over the dick in his hand. He flicked his tongue experimentally onto the underside of the head, earning an immediate jump. 

Washington hardened quickly under the gentle, insistent kisses, light drags of his tongue. He opened his mouth to protest the pace, to remind Alex that they only had but so much time before his lips, those perfect pink, kiss bitten lips wrapped around the wide head of his cock, flushed dark.

He rolled his tongue over it, pushed it against the slit. Alex's eyes fluttered closed, thin skin with dark blue veins showing through, lashes casting gentle shadows on his cheeks. 

George hissed as he watched more and more of his length disappear  in between Alex's lips, stretching around him. He hit the back of his mouth, hesitated before sinking further. The hot stretch of his throat spasmed, Washington watched in nervous awe as he continued to push, fought back his gag reflex. 

"Baby, look at you taking it so well," he purred in encouragement. Alex pulled off, gasp sucking cold air over George's slick erection and went back to work. 

He bobbed enthusiastically, occasionally prying his eyes open to gauge Washington's face. 

Eyes slitted with tight pleasure, mouth agape, hands planted on the wall to keep his stance. Alex could feel George's legs begin to shake, begin to weaken. 

Alex took a preparatory breath, closed his eyes in concentration and took in as much as he could again- nose brushing the waistband of the boxers that he hadn't even removed. He tried to garble a moan, tried to swallow around his cock but couldn't with his wide girth. So he pulled back, brought a hand to cover the area that he couldn't fit easily into his mouth and chased Washington's release. 

Between cheek-hollowing sucks, he pulled off to give jerks up the entirety of him, lave wetly around the head, twist before pushing back down. 

"God, baby, just like that, just like that for me," Alex hummed around the dick in his mouth, twitched happily with the praise. 

"I bet you'd like me to fuck your mouth, huh? Can I do that baby?" he whispered, ever cautious of their location. Alex's eyes fluttered open, pleading through dark lashes up at George. 

Two smaller hands gripped at the side of George's hips, pulling them forward, further into his mouth. Washington cupped a hand to the side of Alex's face and nudged his hips forward, careful and slow. Alex hummed in time with his own hips, rutting into nothing. 

"God Alex, baby," a strangled groan, " _Alex_."

George came, cock buried in Alex's mouth, with a silent snarl and released his grip. He fell back into the wall, watched as Alex swallowed, pulled off slowly making sure he left nothing behind.

Alex loved it, drank him down like he'd been dreaming of and waiting for for years. 

"Stay with me this weekend." The words rang warm in Alex's ears.

Alex zipped him back up, rose to meet his eyes, "Okay." His voice was hoarse, expected, hilariously so. It wasn't hilarious to Washington, his features hardening with pleased possession. Alex's heart swelled, slow arousal coiling in his stomach.

"Not that you'd have time to, but don't touch yourself until we're back at my apartment." 

The smile George got at that rendered him more speechless than when Alex had been using his mouth moments earlier- it was wide, it was sleepy, his eyes sparkled with his arousal and strain. It was hopeful, enthused, the first promise of rest after nearly a week of heartache. 

A week. 

"Sir we're moving pretty fast, aren't we? We've already split up and gotten back together," it was light, manipulated the truth just enough to get a laugh out of it. 

"But it hasn't just been since you've worked here, has it?"

"I guess not. I was in your class on my eighteenth birthday, we could count that as the starting point."

"No, no. Start at graduation. That's when I was allowed to start thinking about it."

"Either way it's been three years and some change."

Washington pressed a gentle kiss, satisfied, to the smile that Alex hadn't relinquished yet. 

"Well then. We're hardly moving fast at all, are we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chap was short!! things are happening   
> thank you guys for all of the hits and kudos and comments!!!


	14. Something That Had to Happen

_from:[n.greene@fcschools.gov](mailto:n.greene@fcschools.gov)_

_Cc:[j.adams.admin@fcschools.gov](mailto:j.adams.admin@fcschools.gov), [g.washington@fcschools.gov](mailto:g.washington@fcschools.gov)_

 

_Dear Mr. Hamilton,_

_I'm sure by now you've heard that my sister has passed, which means there isn't much time left until I should technically return. As much I'd like to come back and teach my students, they have all had you for almost the entire year and I fear my reintroduction into the classroom may negatively impact their success on the upcoming exam. I have already made arrangements with Mr. Adams about my return in the next school year, but I will be letting you close out. From what I hear, you've grown quite fond of your teaching position, and based on your reported success, I believe a teaching career may be a wise choice for you. I look forward to hearing from you._

It was March. The exam was in two months, school closed out in three. 

To be honest, Alex hadn't once entertained a thought about when he'd be leaving, never complained about Greene's absence. Not just because the man had been going through an apparent hell, but because he _had_ grown fond of teaching. 

The fact that he taught a government class so class to the capital had heavy influence in his admiration. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't fantasized about working in D.C., advocating for change, picking at the intricate, near-broken cogs in the machine that was The Government. 

It was kind of his end-game in a way, going to Columbia for economics and pre-law. 

It also didn't help that his coworker-boyfriend?- had just proposed the idea of running for school board. 

"School board? Wouldn't you have to be principal first?"

"It's not required, per se, but that would be my first step. Principal, school board, superintendent, all the way up until I'm the president of the United States." Alex laughed, muttered something along the lines of _"not sure that's how it works."_

Alex recalled a conversation that he'd, unwillingly, had with Jefferson a few months back about replacing Mr. Adams and-

"Wait. How long have you been considering this? Because Jefferson may or may not have propositioned me about the idea of him shooting for the position."

"It was brought to my awareness before the end of the last school year. Mr. Adams said that he told me first because he'd had me in mind before he's considered retiring. But Jefferson's back."

Alex uncrossed his legs to cross just his ankles, swinging his legs from his normal seat on the black-top desks. This conversation came over lunch, which was privy to interruptions. 

Having this talk within possible earshot of Burr or Madison or the smarmy southern belle himself was almost as dangerous as kissing in the corner with the door unlocked. Which was becoming more and more of a problem. 

Washington blames Hamilton for being "irresistible" what with how he bends over to look in the back of the fridge (that he still doesn't use) or how he musses his hair intentionally out of its bun. George gifted him a full-size bottle of the perfume he'd stolen from Angelica, said it was secretly the only reason he'd been attracted to Alex in the first place. Without the threat of running out, Alex wore it daily and enough to detect if he walked past you quick enough for the wind to pick it up.

 Hamilton blames Washington for being such a tease, making him work for it. The argument was usually that Hamilton shouldn't be trying to "work for it" while they were actually at _work_ , but there wasn't so much harm in a few quick, heart-racing pecks. Washington also made note of the clothes that Alex admired, the colors Alex found most attractive on him, the way that his aftershave drove Alex wild. 

"Does Jefferson really have a chance? He just _got_ here."

"No, he just got _back_ here. Adams is absolutely taken by the concept of a well-traveled replacement. Of course that didn't apply to my deployment, but you know how people feel about France."

"Oui, je sais bien." George rolled his eyes. 

The two grew closer over the months, spending a casual Christmas together in between George and Alex's apartments. Things were tense with Martha after Thanksgiving and the estate, although in his name, was hers for the holiday. It was George's idea. Alex had no idea what was going on between them and he didn't dare to ask. 

Alex bunkered down and applied for classes at a more local school- the sounds of surprise from the admissions counselors over the phone at his credits all being from Columbia got old fast. The leather couch in George's apartment had become a common space to spend hours talking, sometimes about how George became a teacher, rarely about his time in the military,  _often_ about politics. Something about how his family's wealth weighed on him and how he felt it unfair to go towards earthly pleasures when he could use it to- like Alex dreamed- advocate for social change. Except he didn't seem to forego much luxury, Alex figured it best not to ask how much George was actually worth.

Alex fell in love all over again for the wisdom that seemed to seep effortlessly from the man, fell in love with his ability to spectate politics with an iron grip on his own morals. They had been watching the news one night when a piece about a new land agreement surfaced, there would be a new oil-drilling town overtop an underdeveloped neighborhood chosen supposedly for its location over a rich deposit, but upon further investigation it turned out to be a predominately Native town with no money and abysmal test scores. A scraggly man with sallow-white skin and deep purple circles under his eyes came on screen and shrugged it off, _"that's just politics, I guess."_ It was impossible to miss how Washington's jaw clenched, disappointment rising right underneath his skin. 

"It's not just politics."

Alex bit back his words, wanting to lament similarly but stopping short of a response. _I guess_ , Alex thought, _it was at that point when I realized George was dead serious about running for office_. He didn't seem to pity the less fortunate, he seemed to believe in them. But he thought of them like soldiers. They couldn't possibly defend themselves, fight anything, beanything without proper outfit, proper resources. _Treat your people right and they'll pay back tenfold._

The strong intellectual rapport that they established didn't mean that Alex stopped fawning over George's height, George's throaty voice, George's comparatively massive hands. He couldn't help himself from being enveloped in his presence, feeling completely safe when tucked into his life whether it be his arms or his classroom or his SUV.

He fantasized about the posters that they'd put up on street corners, stickers that they'd give to students for their cars, radio interviews, school speeches, PTA meetings. And he couldn't place himself anywhere. 

Alex had pulled a bold move, trying to drag Washington into the staff bathroom during lunch.

"Sir _please_ I don't care where I just need you to fuck me. Bathroom? Let's go."

"What?" The time it took for Alex to shove his way into the empty classroom left Washington reeling for comprehension. 

"I can't wait until we get home I need you now," the insistence in his voice was feverish, coming off more anxious than aroused. He couldn't shake the need to be taken, to be claimed, to be reassured that he was still in some small way a belonging. 

"Alexander, absolutely not." Frustration bit at him, rolled in his stomach as he tightened his grip a bit, George unwavering. He didn't get time to plea before they struck a deal. 

"If you behave yourself for the rest of the day I'll give you whatever you want when we get home. But you _know_ better than this."

"Anything?"

"Within reason, yes. Anything."

Alex hardly had a chance to deliberate. 

"What about the shower?" 

* * *

 

In the moment, they were exactly where Alex wanted to be. George had him shoved flush against the glass, face pressed into it, chest pressed into it, swollen cock pressed into it and two fingers jammed into his ass.

"Look at yourself. This is what I have to endure," a sharp curl of his fingers prompted a squeak. "This is how I get to see you every single time. Do you have any idea how hard you are to resist?"

Before him he saw himself, dwarfed by the impossibly tall burl, piercingly aroused eyes trained on his own in the mirror. In his own face he saw the obvious flush, the need, the bottom row of his teeth as he let his jaw fall slack. The raven-black slick of his hair, sticking to him where the water saturated it. The narrow set of his shoulders even with his arms outstretched to brace his weight.

The eye contact felt voyeuristic, the visual reassurance of Washington behind him, the smell of his home surrounding him, the heat of his body that seemed to burn ten degrees hotter than the water failing to completely satisfy the insecurity that he felt.

The heat of the shower seemed to fog up the glass at the same time Washington pushed in, taking from Alex the view of seeing himself impaled on his cock, not that he'd be able to with how his eyes slipped shut. Neither seemed to mind, George set an almost immediately brutal pace, glass door protesting. The pleased groan that Alex voiced into the glass was jarred by each snap forward.

"Sir, _ah_ , don't stop but maybe we, fuck, should move to the other wall," he said breathlessly between thrusts. Washington maneuvered him by wrapping his hands around Alex's biceps, turning him to plant his hands on the ceramic tile wall. He caught himself just in time for Washington to bottom out, tensing around his cock in attempts to keep himself standing. Alex's forehead knocked into the wall with every push of George's hips, his whines came through a cheek pressed into the wet tile. The spray of the shower was just far enough away to miss most of him, landing mostly on the lower part of his leg. It didn't take much to push either of them to the edge, Alex's desperate pleas and wanton moans echoing in the bathroom, toes curling in a vain attempt to grip the floor. George came first, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Alex's shoulder. He stayed fully seated in Alex, twitching through his orgasm as he tugged him to his own.

Alex's climax was strong, heightened by his pent-up lust, the steam of the shower, the way George had grabbed him around the middle and taken him without hesitation, without much pretense or preparation. He spilled into George's hand, slumped bonelessly into the wall of the shower as Washington pulled out, wrapping his arms around the small of Alex's waist just in case. The way he was handled, gently, carefully seemed to zip up  his confusion about where things were better than the hard fuck that he thought would do the job.

Once they were out, dry, and comfortably sprawled on the mattress, realization hit- his uncertainty from earlier crept back in.

"We can't be together if you're campaigning."

"Yes we can."

"Virginia isn't progressive enough for a gay superintendent."

"You think so?"

"Maybe principal. If you're quiet about it. Any kind of elected position, though-"

"Be my campaign manager. You've talked about it before. Help me help you."

The sleepy post-orgasm drop obfuscated much of the concern that weighed Alex heavily into the bed. 

"Is this a cover or are you...sure? I don't have any experience."

"It's hard to be professional while we're, _well_ ," George smiled through a soft laugh at their state of undress, "but I'm entirely serious. Be my right hand man, Alexander."

They shook on it, they kissed on it, they slept on it. 

_We're asleepat 7:40 on a Friday night_ , Alex thought just before he drifted off with his side pressed against George's chest.

* * *

 

For the remainder of the year, Alex threw himself into his job, dedicating most of his free time to preparing his students for the exam. Most of his students took the exam, much to his surprise- he didn't offer any incentive for them to take it. Many of them were like him, embroiled passionately in politics because of their proximity to the capital and saw the exam as absolutely necessary to their education, but some had confessed that they just felt adequately prepared thanks to Alex. 

"We didn't know Mr. Greene that well but you're like...cooler," one student said. Alex remembered her as being shy when he first arrived but seemingly chipping away her reservations in this room where she was free to speak her mind. 

After the exam he got hugs which was _weird_. He stood in the hallway next to Washington the morning after, George laughed at the way he froze up when a queue of students took turns squeezing him. The morning after the APUSH exam, Alex had planned on having his own laugh, but Washington got smiles from a distance, a few firm hand shakes and one emboldened high-five. 

"How come I get hugged? I mean I get you're scary but nobody even tried." A thick eyebrow hiked at the "scary" remark.

"Do you not like hugs?"

"I _love_ hugs." Washington wrapped an arm around his shoulder at that, awfully bold for their position in the hallway. 

* * *

 

On May 24th, Washington had an after school meeting with Mr. Adams. By the way George had been talking about it, it seemed to be a decisive one. Aaron Burr paid him a visit as he was packing up to leave. 

"Oh, hello, Mr. Burr," Alex called over his shoulder, struggling to jam his laptop in his bag around the empty tupperware that he brought his lunch in. Alex had been meaning to ask about Burr's education, he was a Princeton alumni. 

"You went to Princeton, right?"

"I did. Graduated three years ago as of yesterday." Alex mumbled his congratulations, jealousy prickling just barely into the knot of questions he had to ask. 

"You seem incredibly young for being three years out. Is that-"

"I graduated early."

"From Princeton? How?" Burr shifted a bit uncomfortably. As he hefted all of his weight onto his left leg Alex took account of all of his features. His mouth settled into a vacillating purse, his eyes seemed to narrow- not unkindly, but as though he was weighing the options of everything he could say. Alex had walked past his classroom during instructional hours, knew he was incredibly smart if not a bit too mature for his students. He could soften as he did when Alex met him, transform himself into a much more approachable gentleman almost at will. 

"My parents, while alive, expected me to excel. Princeton was their alma mater, they knew the ins and outs of the program, knew the professors. From a young age I was set on this path." It wasn't guilt that snagged at Alex, but a deeper sense of understanding that seemed to securely stitch his approval of his coworker.

"If I can be honest, which why not, fuck it, I felt- I felt lost when I had to drop out of Columbia? All my life had been this breakneck sprint to just go and go and prove everyone wrong and having to actually _physically_ stop killed me. This job was mostly a buffer but now I'm enrolled in local classes and I can't help but feel like I'm still failing? Like I'm not doing enough? I mean, I'm twenty-one and I've spent the last ten months out of college and-"

"Mr. Hamilton." The interruption caught his focus back on Burr's face. Alex blinked himself out of his rambling. He was smiling, eyes soft. Genuine. 

"Get back on your feet. Pity parties are costly."

_This should be offensive, Alex, why aren't you mad?_

The words only seemed to rekindle the fire that crackled beneath Alex's feet, embers prompting him to run. He couldn't make his classes start any sooner, but he could get a running start. 

"Listen. Alexander," Burr started, pleasance leaking out of his posture. 

"Washington and Jefferson are down there together right now and there's something you should know." 

_Oh no. Oh no oh fuck no, no, no._

"Well, what?" Alex tried to smile, square himself up like he was about to get good news. Looking guilty after that would've been just as clear as a verbal admission that he'd done something wrong. But he was nervous, his chest tightened. He braced for it.

"I know about you and Washington."

"What?" The fiery determination morphed instantaneously into retaliative anger. Luckily, his voice was more indicative of incredulity than his concern.

"It's not- it wasn't here. I have no idea if you guys even- okay. I saw you at the airport. Thanksgiving break."

_Try to save it._

"And that was in November."

"Alex I haven't been tracking you and if you'd ask me if I thought you two were still together I honestly wouldn't _know_ but you don't need to worry about _me_ ,"

"You told Jefferson." It wasn't a question. It was obvious. Guiding statements. 

Burr shifted again, uncomfortably. 

"Alexander I studied at Princeton I shouldn't _be here._ If Jefferson's my ticket out then so be it."

"Well shit Aaron. If this is the biggest weight on your conscience then perhaps you're too candid for a higher position. Jefferson's trying to be a principal not the _president._ The best he'll get you here is department chair."

"Alexander we both know that this isn't just about being principal. This is about how they can get on the school board faster."

"So what? Who are you to him? He's got Madison, he doesn't need you, all you did was rat me out to make Washington look bad."

"I won't explain it. I wanted to give you a heads up. Be mad at me if you have to."

He left the class before Burr did, stormed to his car. The anger had masked his fear, his panic, as it so often tended to. On the ride home he shouted into his empty car, shouted like he wanted to at Burr, like he wanted to at Jefferson. He even peppered in a few digs at Madison, trying to scrounge up ill feelings towards him. 

When he got home he almost turned off his phone, he couldn't handle the inevitable call from Washington tonight, didn't want to know that he'd been at fault for whatever happened in that room. 

Instead he called John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG   
> i wrote myself into kind of a weird dead end so this was!! really hard and weird to write?? also i had most of the chapter written and then the document just. disappeared so i had to start over and i was honestly so close to just saying fuck it and abandoning ship  
> but i didn't!! here's chapter 14!  
> who knows what alex is studying for?? what's he gonna do after college?? will he teach? will he run washington's campaign? will he be a stay at home dad (will he and washington get dogs??) will jefferson become principal?? will adams get assassinated?? (no)   
> next chapter: phone call with john&lafayette (expect Big News), answers about principal replacement, graduation (angelica will be there!!), possible campaign launch? who the fuck knows. watch me scrap that and make washington president in the next chapter.  
> i hope you like this chapter!! it's been a fuckin mess to write B')   
> anyways i love your comments and kudos and we hit another hits milestone but i have no idea what it was?? alright LATER


	15. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for daddy kink (sorry i guess)

_"Hello?"_

Alex's apartment was dark, light-cancelling blinds that Washington bought him cloaking the room in a thick dimness, masking the bright edges of his anger, of his trepidation. 

"Hey John."

_"Hey Alex! What's up?"_ the line staticked over just a bit, connection still a bit weak through the brick of the dorm rooms John was no doubt staying in. Through the shit quality of the call he heard a gasp of excitement, his name being called from across the room John was in.

_"Lafayette, get off of me holy shit,"_ the microphone knocked around a bit, John's voice being replaced by Lafayette's.

_"Alexander! I was just about to call you, you're going to... how do- oh- bust it when you hear this,"_ a shrill laugh drowned out the last of the words Lafayette spit out, Alex's mood lifting the tiniest bit at what he hoped was a joke.

_"How do you even fuck up that bad, Lafayette? Do you know what that means?"_ There was a knowing laugh. Their French friend always pulled this, retreating into his masquerade of foreignness for laughs or to dodge heavier topics. 

_"Anyways, Alex- Alex are you there?"_

"Yeah I'm here," he said, blinking his eyes hard enough that they blurred a bit when he stopped, moved absently around the room. 

_"Good! Okay, so, John shut up, guess what! Just kidding don't, I'll tell you. The three of us- Hercules, John and me are getting an apartment! With plenty of room. Which means you can move back to New York!"_

It shouldn't have been a surprise, it was something the four of them had talked about since freshman year. It wasn't unusual for juniors and seniors to seek outside residence if they could afford it, Alex had always been scared of the fact that he'd have to bust his ass to pay his keep but the others were dead set on helping him out. But the idea still sat heavy, weighed more than he thought it would. 

And embarrassingly enough, it was the tiniest bit of apprehension, the smallest amount of extra something to deliberate on his plate that evening that sent him to tears. The silence had lasted a bit too long.

_"Alex?"_ It was John's voice now. He sucked in a shaky breath, lungs uncomfortably stretching the tension that had made a home in his body that day. 

"Yeah?" He closed his eyes, pressed his eyebrows down in defeat at how pathetic he sounded.

_"Alex, is everything okay? Did something happen?"_

"Somebody found out about me and Washington," Alex gulped, mouth going dry halfway through his answer, "a while back. Back at Thanksgiving. He knew the whole time."

_"How bad is it?"_

Alex had kept John posted on just about everything, John already knew of Jefferson, of the promotion situation, of Washington's hopes for running. 

"Jefferson knows."

_"Shit. Well what has Washington said about it?"_

He sniffed down a shake, didn't let himself sob like his lungs, like his heart so badly wanted him to. Alex was used to pissing people off, but never betrayal. He didn't like feeling in trouble, sure, but this was more. This was the chill of winter that seized him even in the muggy Virginia May, the icy prickle and the dull ache that pulled his soul down with the idea of his body, of his love, being so costly. 

_"I don't know. I found out today and booked it John."_ There was nothing indicative of his disappointment over the line, no reaction to it, no motion to make a suggestion. _"I don't- I can't. John I can't face him I can't handle-"_

"Alex, breathe."

The exasperated sigh turned into a centering breath through his nose.

_"Why does it feel like every time you call me I give you the same advice? You're gonna have to talk to him."_

"He's not gonna wanna speak to me after this, John, I cost him his shot at school board he's gonna hate me. He probably already does I'm just some cheap slut who cost him his career."

_"Alex don't say- first of all don't call yourself a slut, second of all you don't even know what happened in there. Please just talk to him. Even if it turned out bad. Because if it did you need to apologize, you can't run from that."_

Alex shut right up, shame washing hot over him at the realization that, yeah, he'd been planning on avoiding an apology. Planning on running from everything.

"Okay, I'm moving back up to New York."

_"Oh no you don't. I'm hanging up, call Washington."_

"Wait what the fuck? You called to get me to move back and now you-" the line dropped silent, two beeps signaling he'd been hung up on. 

And then it was back into panicked anger. Anger at Burr for fucking up the last good thing he had. Anger at John for not letting him just come back, pretend the state of Virginia never happened to him, pretend Washington didn't exist. He pretended he wasn't shaking, flipped on his tv, tried to hone all of his focus onto the news. 

Blue and red light bathed the setting on the current segment, the anchor told of a shooting that had taken place the night before in the D.C. area, neighborhood uncomfortably close to where many of the White House staff resided. He was fully absorbed in the tearful testimony a woman gave to the camera when a knock on the door nearly scared him out of his skin. He whipped to face the door but didn't move to get it. Two more knocks. 

"Alexander, please let me inside." 

Of course it was Washington. 

"Alex, please, I'm not upset, just let me talk to you."

"No, you have every right to be angry just- just hold on," Alex rose, padded heavily to the door. The knob turned with a metallic grate, inner mechanisms ticking as he opened the door a crack. 

Washington was still dressed like he was earlier in the day, he most likely came straight here, and his hands were at his sides. He seemed relaxed, soft, but concerned. 

"Hi," Alex peeped out through the little gap. 

"May I come inside?"

"I- yeah," Alex let go of the door, backed up to let George in. His heart fluttered a bit, still mesmerized by the thought of him in his apartment, still caught on the softness he exuded, the impossible gentleness he could adopt when he wanted. He shut the door behind himself, stood to be a healthy distance away from Alex in his kitchen.

"Firstly- Alex look at me." Alex snapped his head up, looked him dead in the eye, will submissive. "You're not in trouble. Not with me, not with anyone. You should never be afraid of me, Alex. I would never do anything to hurt you."

"But sir I cost you y-"

"Let me finish." Cold shame flooded into him at being reprimanded so gently.

"I got the promotion."

"What?"

"Jefferson sprung our relationship in the meeting, wouldn't tell how he found out but made a big deal about how unscrupulous I am and how I'm not to be trusted."

"So how?"

"Adams cut him off halfway, said he had no room to talk. Apparently he's had something swept under the rug before. It came down to numbers, seniority, leadership. And since you're leaving _anyway_ to go to school, there's absolutely nothing wrong with us being together."

Hot relief took the place of the knots in his stomach, washed through him, inflated his posture. A smile split Alex's face, tears shining just a bit in his eyes. And Washington looked at him like he looked like stars, like he'd been seeing him for the first time, falling in love for the first time.

 

Six months later Alex found himself in the principal's office- Washington's office- right as school let out. He chewed on his lip through a smile as George delivered the afternoon announcements, large hands drumming on the desk far enough that the microphone wouldn't pick up. Alex closed the door behind him, just barely keeping his bag from getting caught and he winked. George didn't miss a beat, eyes darkening at the mischief Alex had undoubtedly planned, but continued on with the bus changes. While he wrapped up, Alex turned around to face the wall, pretended to straighten a photo he had hanging but stuck out his ass in what he thought would be a humorous way, too cheesy to be taken seriously. 

"Have a safe weekend students and staff."

But before he could straighten himself and turn around, those two hands that were previously tapping on the dark wood of his desk had taken hold of his hips, dragged him back until his ass was flush with George's crotch. 

"Woah, okay," Alex laughed, surprised to find him hard in his pants. 

"Been thinkin' about you all day, baby, I miss having you just a room away."

"As much as I agree, and as much as I'd give anything to, uh, help you out right now, there's still people in that office. Like you literally just dismissed the students," Alex reasoned, straightening his posture to lean back into George's chest, rested his head underneath his chin. A hum sent vibrations through his chest, into Alex's shoulders, resonance melting away what Alex had originally come to complain about. His new classes were sort of boring, much slower paced than Columbia- he had something specific that pissed him off but Washington just made him forget, always made him forget. 

"You could hide under my desk," he offered.

"Holy _shit_ ," Alex barely got out before Washington pinched the skin on his hip, scolded him for his language, made him wince. 

"Sure, yeah okay let's do that," and Alex was scrambling, Washington's desperation for this was quiet but ever present, Alex had learned to read him. It was rare that Washington would be waiting for him, for him to be needy when Alex wasn't there. He never begged for it, he usually just posed the situation so that it would be ludicrous for Alex turn him down. 

Once Alex was crammed under his desk Washington made his way back over, sat back in his chair with his knees spread wide, a nice big pocket of space for Alex to settle into. Hesitantly, Alex raked his fingers along Washington's thighs, shiver prompting his own cock to twitch in interest. He felt Washington's foot shift beside him, likely his toes curling with the impatience he wouldn't voice. Thankfully, Alex couldn't see his face, he'd likely be rendered useless, knowledge that he'd been taking Washington apart fizzling out any coherence he'd have. Alex rested his head on one of his thighs, ran his hand along the other, rubbing his thumb closer and closer to the bulge in his trousers. Papers shuffled on the desk above him, George decidedly making himself appear busy- or sound busy- Alex assumed. When he finally flattened his palm against his crotch, Washington squeezed his knees together just a bit. Alex took this as a demand, replacing his hand with his face, burying his nose into his crotch as much as the space would permit him, George sinking down a bit to accommodate him. He pressed a gentle kiss to the fabric before moving his hands to undo his belt, mouthing lazily as he did so. The chime of metal on metal was intense in his ears, Alex flushed hot at the reality that someone could probably hear them outside, but he continued anyways, shoved the undone buckle to the side and unzipped George's pants. He'd been kissing wetly, teasingly at the cock in front of him through thin cotton boxers when a light tap hit the door a few times. 

"George, we're all heading home for the weekend," she didn't bother coming inside. Abigail had stayed in her position even with Adams gone and she had proven just then that she was the _fucking realest_ by staying on the other side of that door.

"Have a good one, Mrs. Adams," he replied, voice completely level. 

"Good night Mr. Washington, Night Alexander."

Alex curled his fingers into the waist of his pants and boxers both, yanked them down as much as he could before Washington lifted up just enough for him to get them down just to the top of his thighs. Washington's cock, flushed and swollen, rested heavily on one thigh, Alex immediately licking a wet swath down to the base. When he got no reaction, he pushed a bit further, focused his attention on eagerly tonguing at the head of it, lapping at the precum that had gathered at the slit. He took it in his mouth with practiced ease, swirling his tongue at the tip before popping it into his cheek. He pushed down, settled until George's dick was at his throat to choke off the moan that bubbled up in him. 

The smell of Washington's arousal, of the warm soap that he used that clung to him like perfume, was near overpowering, Alex pulling off before bobbing back down, hands braced on George's knees. They were probably alone in this corner of the school, their discretion was probably less necessary now that Abigail had fled, so Alex hummed around George in his mouth,  tongue working hard at the bottom of his dick. 

It was apparently a bad move, George snaked a hand down to push at Alex's chin, rolled his chair back a bit. Saliva dripped from Alexander's bottom lip, strung still between George's cock. His features were hard, disapproving. 

"You're being quite bold down there, young man. Did I give you permission to make noise?" 

_Oh. Okay._

"No sir."

"Get up here," he said, stern. He was always commanding as a teacher, but the promotion to principal, the door that locks that only _he_ had the key to, the command over a staff of his own, being the main disciplinary figure in the school was something else entirely. Arousal swam into his head, dizzying him as he struggled to get to his feet, knees just barely sore from the short time spent cooped under the desk. The second he thought he was sure of his footing he was maneuvered, Washington's hands spinning him around by his shoulders to face away from him. He leaned beside him a bit, grabbed the stack of papers he had there and tossed them, moved the cup of pencils he kept there, moved the plaque with his name on it out of the way- having it face inward instead, a visual reminder. Principal Washington. Two thick arms wrapped to palm at Alex's stomach through his shirt, Washington's warmth pressed fully against Alex's back. 

"You've been bad, haven't you baby?"

"Yessir, I've- yes."

"Do you think I should discipline you for it?"

Alex panted, fully hard now in his pants as Washington rucked up his tee shirt, rubbed his hands gently over Alex's ribs. 

"Yes, sir, please. Spank me, please please just bend me over and spank me and make me count them or whatever just do it, sir, please." Begging got him _everywhere._  

"Mmm," George hummed, pulling the shirt over Alex's head, taking his hair out of the elastic and burying his nose in the soft waves that cascaded to his shoulders. Since they had practically moved in together, Washington started buying him a new shampoo, loved smelling himself so strongly in Hamilton's hair, loved claiming him in such a domestic way. When he backed off a bit a wide hand pressed at Alex's shoulder, bent him over until his bare chest was flush with the desk. 

A single finger hooked into the waist of his pants, tugged teasingly. 

"Please, sir please I'm sorry, please," Alex breathed, not wanting to step out of line but desperately hard against the wood of the desk. He knew George was too far gone to spend too much time with this, knew he wouldn't have to be too patient, so he played by the rules. His pants were yanked off alongside his boxers, swollen dick pressed between his bare stomach and the cold desk eliciting a hiss from him. As much as he wanted to giggle, wanted to poke at George for how far gone he was, the unconscious roll of his hips just spurred Alex's own need. 

"Ten. Is ten okay?"

Ten was enough to get the job done.

"Yes sir, ten is good, sir." His hands had just barely lost a little bit of callous since the promotion, but they were still just as strong, just as wide, just as warm as ever. 

And the first strike scorched at his behind, more on his thigh than anything else, but the sting channeled directly into prickling arousal. 

"One, sir, thank you," Alex started strong, voice level. 

A single finger traced delicately down his spine, down his tailbone raising goosebumps until his whole hand grabbed his right ass cheek, fingernails just long enough to dig in the smallest bit before delivering another slap.

"Two, sir, thank you."

Like that George continued, gentle touches, light kisses, a hot wash of breath over his shoulders, brushing Alex's hair aside before hitting him again, each spank less controlled than the one before it. 

"Eight, thank you," he fought to keep his voice level, Washington wasn't using all of his strength. 

" _Alex,_ " his resolve crumbled a bit more as Alex arched, cock leaking and mouth gaping with the gasps he tried to silent. Washington bent to bury his nose in between his shoulder blades, breathing a frustrated sigh into the heat of Alex's back. Washington slid his cock into the cleft of Alex's ass, hissed in frustration at the dry stick of it, at how little he was getting. Alex was absolutely thrilled at how badly George needed it, at how poor his composure was. 

"C'mon George, just two more. For the record," Alex joked, rolling his hips to slide further onto his length, tight pleasure swelling in his crotch. George huffed a little laugh, pulled his body away and gave two quick slaps, weak, before retreating to rifle through his bag. Alex, warmed up but perfectly willing to be patient, propped himself up on an elbow to watch Washington arm deep in his leather messenger bag. 

"Nine and ten sir?"

"Nine and ten. Do you think you can handle no prep, baby girl?" The humor fell out, slipped through the fibers of the carpet, sank into the concrete of the foundation beneath them as a sudden flush scorched at him. 

"God, okay _yeah_ let's try that out. Oh my god."

Washington returned, small bottle of lube in his hand and heat radiating off of him, hips aligned with Alex's. The skin that had been slapped was hardly raw, the eight actual hits weren't that hard- he didn't mind. It could be about Washington today. He rolled his weight back a bit to prop himself up on his toes instead of letting his chest slump against the desk. 

Fucking was a regular occurrence, Alex could handle just about anything Washington decided to throw in his direction. His head swam as a recollective sequence of how many times he'd been nailed by George swam through his head, how it was almost always in George's nicer apartment. But they'd never gone without at least a bit of preparation.

As George nudged the flushed head of his now slick cock Alex remembered why they'd never done it that way before. 

"Wait, wait, actually no." Panic plucked sinuously deep in his gut, nothing hurting yet.

He didn't even get a response, just a pause, a click and then two slick fingers breaching the tightness of his ass. Alex knew how to relax, knew how to take it well. The stretch burned, hurt a bit more than it felt good for just a minute, drove Alex wild and blind with pleasure. It's exactly what he walked in the room for in the first place and he was seeing stars behind his eyelids at the way George rubbed soothing circles on his back while his other hand took him apart. 

"Are you good, baby? Can I go?"

"Jesus, yes _go_ da- sir please," Alex whined, heart constricting as he prayed George didn't notice the slip up. 

"Did you almost call me... daddy?" He laughed it off, Alex did, too. 

"Hey, I'm not the freak that keeps lube in my work bag."

The two fingers were removed, Alex drove his hips back in a futile attempt to chase them, but braced himself fully against the desk in buzzing anticipation for George's dick. 

Except a few seconds turned into ten seconds that seem to stretch on for an eternity.

"George? What's wrong did I s-"

"Say it."

Alex stomach fluttered, his dick twitched underneath him as realization settled into him, filtered like silt through the gravel of his right mind until it hit the base level of want and need and hunger and he'd do absolutely anything to be stretched around George right now. He was being smug. He didn't sound any more aroused than he was before, he was probably playing into some weird humiliation thing, not letting him drop the mistake that he'd made.

But he didn't know what the idea was doing to Alex.

Or maybe it was the fact that there was a one hundred percent chance of him finally scoring his desk sex that he'd been staring at on his fucked up bucket list for years.

So at first it was a whisper.

"Daddy, please."

It got him a small groan, a noise of approval. But no movement.

"C'mon please daddy, fuck me into your desk, fuck me until I can't see or talk or hold back any of my noise, fuck me until I can only say your name."

George nearly recoiled at that, breathing out a tight sigh as he rubbed his length into the messy cleft of his ass, still slicked with the lube of his own fingers. He paused for a moment, maybe to consider adding more lubricant, but decided against it when Alex bounced his hips up. 

"So good for me, baby," George grumbled as he finally, _finally_ pushed in. He didn't hesitate, seated himself fully albeit giving Alex enough time to figure out how to loosen himself. He seated himself fully, ground his hips into Alex's, pinning him into the desk fully. 

"God, daddy, you're so _big_ ," he was keeping his voice down, not trying to blow their relatively stable cover. Alex continued to babble like this, peppering _daddy_ into his normal slew of encouragements. For George. Not for him. He tried to convince himself of that until he was grabbed by the hips with a bruising hold and George was absolutely plowing him and said something along the lines of-

"Just like that, baby girl, you look so good stretched around daddy, don't you?" 

And that was when Alex was suddenly overwhelmed, overheated, his climax caught him off guard with how swiftly it came, how it was over before he could really even register it had started. He squeaked almost every time George thrusted into him, first orgasm proving to be insufficient because he felt the same familiar buildup, the same tightening warmth in his balls that only got hotter as he wormed his arm underneath him and moved to stroke himself, slick from the first short climax. 

"Christ, baby, are you gonna come twice?" Washington's voice sounded ragged, he was edging close to his own climax.

"God, yes daddy, _please_ I want- _fuck_ \- I want you to finish first, please come inside."

With that George's pace got a bit quicker and a bit shallower. Alex didn't notice how much either of them were sweating until George bottomed out with a shaky groan, mostly pinned back with tight lips, and he felt the contact of nude hips on his ass, sticky with their combined exhaustion. 

He wasted little time in pulling out, tapped on Alex's side and told him to flip over. 

"You've done well, baby girl, I think you deserve a reward."

"Anything for you, sir."

Alex had put all of his concentration into rolling over without knocking anything off the desk that he didn't notice Washington disappear. Rather, he didn't notice Washington lower himself to his knees.

He did notice the way he very gently pushed at the juncture of his legs and his ass, widening his stance to get a better angle to lower himself onto Alex's still hard cock. Reflexively, Alex lifted his legs a bit, spread himself back open to fully feel it, and then he _definitely_ noticed when George pulled off and moved to tongue closer to his fucked hole, still dripping undoubtedly with George's own spend. A high whine bubbled through Alex's lungs as George pushed his tongue back into Alex. A wide hand, impossibly hot, circled around Alex's dick and he was gone almost instantly, second climax, _full_ climax sending spasms down his back and stealing his breath. George stroked him through it, slowed down with him until Alex could finally pry his eyes back open. A few moments passed in relative silence, both of their breath evening out as George pushed himself back into a stand, fixed his pants and settled his gaze onto Alex's face, warm eyes fixating on Alex's own. 

They held the stare for a while before they both split into laughter simultaneously- George's gentle huffing pleasure harmonizing with Alex's more goofy laugh, robbed of most of its normal enthusiasm by his tiredness.

"We shouldn't make a habit out of this," Washington smiled out, tapping on the plaque with his name engraved in its gold face.

"Yeah, you're right."

"I can always turn the guest bedroom into an office, though."

Alex curled his abdomen to sit up, laughed as George's lips caught his own in a kiss that was slow, warm slide in a post-coital haze.

Alex finally felt sure of himself, sure that everything was going to work out.

Everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE TO EXPLAIN MYSELF  
> 1.) I'm sorry this chapter took so long!!! I really didn't expect it to, I promised myself I'd finish it way earlier but I got caught up in everything so! Since the last chapter I have graduated from high school, met my best friend in person, had my best friend stay here for ten days, sent my best friend back home, started and finished the game Dishonored, gone to colonial williamsburg twice, sewed an OUTFIT for colonial williamsburg, hit on one of the actors there (i'm in Love), died, resurrected myself, blah, blah. I was also working on an mma au for a little lams fic and that took way longer than I anticipated (my bitch ass still isn't done with that either) I've also been drawing a little more lately so. oops  
> 2.) sorry about the daddy kink, i needed something to get me back into this fic because i wasn't 100% sure of how i was gonna write it. idk. IM SORRY.  
> 3.) please don't leave me just because this fic is done!! i'll be posting more stuff and i love love love hearing your opinions on my writing! i have more fics chillin in my works, just clicc on my username! and it's summer so i'll hopefully have a ton of free time until i'm employed so.  
> THE END!!! this fic was a wild ride, it was my first multichap and it's considerably large... looking back I'm seeing a lot of flaws but I'm so so glad you all stuck with me through this!! your comments both kicked my ass and made me continue to write and we wouldn't be here at chapter 15 without you all :')  
> sorry if any part of this is just. awful. i wanted to give this chapter to you as soon as i finished it but  
> YEAH! thank you all so much!! i love u. keep in touch with me on twitter (@haalpine) or email me at haalpinecommissions@gmail.com or ANYTHING idk. i love talking to you guys!! ok KISSES gbye


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